


'cause my house is your house, my heart is too (there's room for you)

by transishimaru



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, Dangan Ronpa: Trigger Happy Havoc, Super Dangan Ronpa 2
Genre: AU - College, Alternate Universe - College/University, Aphobia, Asexual Character, Crossover, Drabbles, F/F, F/M, First Time, Frottage, Gay Straight Alliance, Gen, Genderfluid Character, Homophobia, M/M, Nonbinary Character, Polyamory, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Semi-Public Sex, Trans Male Character, Transphobia, Violence, gratuitous references to western culture, pride month
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-15
Updated: 2019-07-03
Packaged: 2020-05-12 14:33:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 25
Words: 27,670
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19231066
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/transishimaru/pseuds/transishimaru
Summary: Drabbles based on the prompts for Pride Month 2019! An alternate universe where everyone meets through their college GSA. Imported from my tumblr.Mostly Ishimaru/Mondo, but others frequently show up/are referenced/are implied. Tags will be updated as needed.There is a crossover in one chapter but so far I haven't really referenced it outside of that one chapter. Warnings per chapter will be given at the start of each chapter!





	1. day 1: storm

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> title from the MIKA song ["It's My House"](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sMVRt0ZjJtg)

“I’m gonna go over there and close the damn laptop over.”

Chihiro drops the paper packet they’ve been reading into their lap, giving him an exhausted look. “Mondo, no. Don’t.” 

“I’m gonna,” he says, but Chihiro grabs his shirt before he can move in the direction he’s been staring at for the past hour. He probably stops more to be polite than because of any actual strength on Chihiro’s part. He looks down at Chihiro, trying very hard to pull him back by the hem of his shirt, and quirks an eyebrow at them. 

They don’t let go, but huff. “Why do you live to irritate him?”

“What?” he asks, having the audacity to look offended. “I don’t live to irritate him!” 

“You antagonize him at every given opportunity,” they point out, glaring at him. He looks down and off to the side very quickly, grumbling something out.

“I’m sorry,” Celes asks, and it’s only now Chihiro realizes that she’s moved the headphones to the side of her head to hear the conversation. “Did you just say that’s your way of  _flirting_  with him?”

“YEAH! AND?” 

It surprises no one that Taka’s the person who shushes them first, not even looking up from where he’s leaning into his laptop, way too close. Mondo just gestures to where he’s sitting, waving his hand around, like that’s supposed to tell them something.

When Chihiro shakes their head in confusion, Mondo huffs. “See? He does it too.”

“He shushed you because we’re in the library and you’re screaming. Not because he’s flirting with you, idiot.” 

Chihiro tries to glare at Byakuya from around Mondo’s body, but it fails spectacularly. So they just settle on saying, “You don’t need to be rude.”

“He is right, though,” Celes says. “He isn’t flirting with you.” 

Mondo’s face is so painfully red it might actually be radiating heat. “Well, yeah, that wasn’t. But he nags at me loads of other times.”

“He nags all of his friends,” Byakuya says, flipping between pages on his rough draft and sighing. “It’s the only way he knows how to make friends.”

“He nags you, too,” Celes smirks. “Does that make you friends?”

“Unfortunately.” 

“Don’t be a little bitch -” Mondo starts to snap.

Taka shushes them again. 

They’re all quiet for a couple of seconds, which is all it takes for Mondo to pull out of Chihiro’s grasp and stomp over to where Kiyotaka’s sitting, frowning at the screen with the blue light reflecting off his reading glasses. 

It all goes off when Mondo leans over and slams the laptop shut, almost on Taka’s fingers.

“WHAT ARE YOU DOING?” Taka shouts. Byakuya shushes him, but he doesn’t seem to hear it. “I WAS WORKING ON SOMETHING!”

“Guys -” Chihiro starts to call over. Some students from a different section shush them, so they get up to come over. “Guys, come on. You’re gonna get us kicked out of the library.” 

They both ignore them. “Come on, man, ya gotta take a break. You can’t even open yer fuckin’ laptop back open ‘cause yer so tired.” 

“No, I can’t open my ‘freakin’ laptop back open because you are  _HOLDING THE TOP DOWN!_ ” This time, the circulation librarian joins in with their classmates in telling them to quiet it down. 

“I’m not even holdin’ in that hard. Yer just tired.” Mondo presses Taka back with one finger on his forehead, and he goes. “Take. A. Break.” 

“This paper is due -”

“On the twenty-sixth, man, it’s the seventh! Ya got time. An’ don’t even bother actin’ like you don’t got most’a that shit written out by now.” 

Taka scowls at him, but he has, notably, given up on trying to reopen his laptop. “You’re not going to permit me to continue, are you?”

“Nope,” Mondo says cheerfully. “You get to mom us all the time, so ‘m gonna dad you now. You gotta take fuckin’ breaks some times, so pack yer shit up. We’re goin’ out.” 

Chihiro stares at the table and blinks, wishing very suddenly they hadn’t come over for this.

Taka seems to have missed the implication, though. He takes off his glasses and rubs his face with his hands. “Where, exactly, are we meant to be going?”

“Does it matter?” Mondo grumbles. 

“Well, yes. I need to know if I should go by my dorm first.” 

“Nah,” Mondo says, distracting himself with the zipper of his own jacket so he doesn’t have to actually look at his friend when he says, “I’ll pay.” 

“I should at least pay for the cab,” he argues, but he’s still shoving all of his stuff back into his back. 

“What?” Mondo scoffs, picking up the things that won’t fit in Taka’s bag in his own arms. Not that he even asked. “We’re not gonna take a fuckin’ cab ya nerd, I gotta damn motorcycle fer a reason.”

Taka’s expression shifts from one version of irritated to another. “Mondo Oowada. I am not getting on your motorcycle.” 

“Why the fuck not!” His voice is raising back up to a shout. And since campus security is doing their usual rounds, that just means trouble. 

Chihiro should really back up. “Uh, guys -” 

“For one thing,” Taka says, pulling his bag up over his shoulder and his jacket on, apparently not realizing he’s just doing the process backwards, “It is pouring! Rain!”

Mondo’s already made his way around the table, completely forgetting Chihiro’s presence. He pushes Taka by the back, both of them oblivious to the way everyone is just…staring. Although they could just be used to it, by now. The last thing Chihiro hears of them is Mondo saying, “Oh, come on, it ain’t like I never done it before -”

And Taka shouting back - “You’re insane! I don’t get how you’re even still alive -!”

“Well, clearly, we were wrong,” Byakuya says from behind them. He’s got his stuff tucked under one arm, Celes trailing behind him, messing with her phone.

“How so?” Chihiro asks.

“Clearly, arguing  _is_  his version of flirting.” He takes off his glasses, shoving them in his pocket. “Well, are you ready to go?” 

“Uh…where?” 

“Following them, of course,” Byakuya says. “If we’re going to be the third through fifth wheels in their relationship, we may as well get some entertainment out of it.”  

“That’s not very polite,” Chihiro says. 

“Well, how about this,” Celes chimes in, pulling the hood of her jacket up over her hair. “Mondo already said he’s paying, so we’ll just say they’re picking up our tab. They owe us, for almost getting us kicked out of the library  _again_.” 

“Well…”

“Great, it’s decided,” Byakuya says. “Let’s move, before we lose track of them.”

“There’s not many places they could go. This is kind of a small town,” Chihiro points out.

Byakuya ignores them, but Celes leans down. “What are my odds that they don’t realize they’re going on a date?” 

They think about it. “I wouldn’t bet against you.”

“Of course not, sweetie, you have common sense. That nasty bug in my French history class, though…” 

“Hmm…” It really isn’t kind, but Chihiro thinks they know who it is they’re talking about. So, “Wait until we get there. If it’s Cracker Barrel, double your odds they’ll get kicked out after an hour.” 


	2. day 2: rainbow

When he thinks of Mondo, he thinks of rainbows. 

Or, well, no; that isn’t, strictly speaking, correct. But it is an easier way of saying that he associates him with every color, all at once, as if he’s been surrounded in kaleidoscope vision. 

He thinks of Mondo’s lips stained red with too much food dye he used in their attempt at a bake sale. Half of the proceeds were meant to go to charity and the other half to cover costs for them to do something as a club - go to Pride in the city, meet up with the GSAs from other schools, go to lectures on queer studies - but the more garishly-colored snacks didn’t sell. 

Their rainbow gimmick failed. Too obvious, maybe. There were people who didn’t care, because sweets were sweets; and there were people, even, who enthusiastic about the food  _because_  of its color. But more often than not, people would show mild interest until they caught onto the theme and recoiled, cringing. 

And it was making Chihiro cry. The rainbow theme had been their idea.

Kiyotaka hadn’t really known what to say to cheer them up. He’d never been good at comforting himself, let alone others. So he’d said, “Maybe they have an allergy to red food dye!” knowing that it wasn’t true. 

It didn’t help. “I just feel bad, that all this food is going to go to waste,” they said, rubbing at their eyes.

“The hell it is! If no one else buys ‘em, Taka an’ I’ll eat ‘em all!” And Mondo glared at him from behind Chihiro’s back, giving Kiyotaka a look that said, very plainly, that there was no room for argument on this front. 

And both their mouths were stained bright red for several days after, drawing Kiyotaka’s attention away every time they spoke. 

(And pink, if you count it - he thinks of how Mondo blushes, almost angrily, hand on the back of his head and looking as far away as he can. It’s not a reaction he invokes, not yet. But he thinks he’s learning.)

Orange, he thinks of leaves falling, crumbling under their shoes as they stand by the fountain and wait for everyone else to show up. 

He’s not expecting Mondo to be on time - or, actually, he’s early, the first person to arrive after Taka. He nods to acknowledge Kiyotaka’s presence, and immediately finds something else to focus on, standing in the same space without actually sharing anything. 

Taka’s staring at the leaves skating by on the pavement when he sees shoes drawing closer to his own. He doesn’t look up before the arm comes over around him, feeling himself encased in heavy fabric, pulled against a warmer body.

“You shoulda worn more layers,” Mondo chides him, managing to sound irritated despite the offer being unprompted. 

“I don’t understand how you’re so hot, when you have so little on!” he says, and (pink) watches Mondo flush at his choice of words.

He doesn’t fix them.

Yellow makes him think of the sun. Don’t most people? The brightest, the first noticeable, caution signs, lights before they turn red. 

And how Mondo always runs them. 

The first time he does it, Kiyotaka nearly has a panic attack, but it turns just as soon as they pass the mark and he can’t say for certain that Mondo had time to react. It’s been hard enough to get Taka on his motorcycle. He’s just nervous, he tells himself. They both are.

But the fourth time - it’s a habit. 

“You need to  _slow down_  when the light goes yellow!” he shouts over the din. 

Mondo promptly ignores him. Taka’s hands around him tighten on reflex. 

Green is (go) the color (go!) of (go!!) the carnations Taka grows as a project for one class. They have meaning, significance, and he names them all for men he has admired in his life. Many are politicians, a few scientists, one performer, and…

(Mondo.)

(Pink. That’s the color his face is right now, even on his own.) 

Teal is new. Or maybe, it’s old. It’s the color of the ocean, that Taka has known and never seen in person until they meet up during spring break, one day to exist as friends and a club before school starts up again. 

And he’s never seen it before. He’s been to smaller rivers, never to bigger bodies of water. Not himself, always in textbooks, theoretical, the same way their futures seem to be. 

It makes him melancholy that they even need this. That they are gay-straight alliance lacking in allies. That for all the good they try to do, they are one club at one school and they make about as much difference as the seashells Leon is trying to skim across the water. 

He sits in the sand, unmoving, watching the tide wash up on the beach, wondering what it would be like to feel it on his feet. 

Mondo sits next to him, pokes his side where his skin is most sensitive. 

“Dude,” he says, “You’re sweatin’ bullets. Why doncha take off ya shirt?” 

Without thinking, Taka replies, “Because I don’t want to share my scars.” 

This is the first person he’s told. And he hadn’t meant to - this was a secret - this was something Mondo could hate him for, could lose interest in whatever it is that pulls them back together whenever they occupy the same space. 

But when he watches the waves crash, bubbling in white foam, he just hears “Oh, okay.” He doesn’t feel the sand shift the way he might on chairs or beds, but he does feel skin hitting his, their knees knocking together where Mondo shifts until they’re touching thigh to thigh. “I’ll just sit here with you, then.”

“Don’t you want to go into the water?” Taka asks.

“Do you?”

He answers with the same immediacy, unconsidered but comfortable. “Not with everyone else.” He doesn’t ask Mondo for a clearer answer, but the arm stretched behind him, hand by his hip - that’s teal, the color of the waves he watches and wonders what it looks like at night for just two people.

Blue is –

               the color of –

                                      his bedsheets –

(Pink, his face when they wake up, when they realize they fell asleep with the movie on in the background and he has spent the night dreaming of kissing him -)

Purple is the color of bruises. Mondo’s bruises. Taka’s bruises. Leon’s bruises. Makoto’s bruises. The bruises even on their seniors who had just been walking past, had seen what was happening and didn’t hesitate to jump in and help. 

And it’s the color of his face. He’s amazed at the bruises on the back of his knuckles. He’s never hit someone before, didn’t know what he was doing. He knows the basics of self-defense and nothing about rage. He’s exhilarated -

And then immediately, he’s nauseated. He hurt another person.

“They deserved it,” Mondo tells him, hanging over his shoulder, watching him stare at his hands. They’re shaking, now. 

Leon (let it never be said Leon Kuwata was discouraging) claps him on the back (he smiles, he can’t see it but Taka knows he does) and says, “I’m proud of you, man!” 

Purple is what he expects his father’s face to look like when he comes to bail him and his friends out for  _disturbing the peace and_  –

“You did the right thing,” he hisses, so his coworkers can’t hear. 

They only know his father for the heavy-set eyebrows that make him look angry, but Taka knows him better. 

Violet…

(pink) that’s the color of his (pink) eyes, as he is (pink) trying to focus, a little tipsy on Taka’s (pink) face. They are so (pink) soft, where they look at him every time (pink) they look at him, especially now, when they are (blushing, that blush just accentuates the violet in his eyes) being dared to kiss. They’re the (pink) same color when he pulls away, and (pink) even brighter when Taka says, “I want the same dare.”


	3. day 3: first date

“Taka, I know this is the wrong time to ask because you’re super duper busy right now but I need you to do me a favor.”

Kiyotaka looks up from the paper in his hand, moderately bewildered by the friend who’d come bursting through the doors in a panic. “Asahina, this is wildly inappropriate. I am tutoring somebody.  _Right now!_ ”

She looks between them, guilty but not dissuaded. “It’s just Mondo!” she shrieks, anxiety overcoming her.

“Thanks,” Mondo says flatly.

“Still,” Taka says, trying to regain some control of the situation, “I am on the clock. And please do not scream, this is still the library.”

Hina huffs, annoyed, arms flying around as she moves over to the couch and sits, arms crossed over her chest. He feels a little bad to be blowing her off like this. But that sympathy quickly evaporates when he sees she’s managed to distract Mondo from the course of his homework.

Kiyotaka taps the table in front of him with the eraser end of his pencil. “ _Kyo_ \- Mondo,” he corrects himself, “We still have work to do.”

“I know,” he says, voice absent, “But just - look, man, she’s givin’ us the puppy dog eyes.” 

Great. She really is staring at them, from where she is, pouting. On Taka, it doesn’t work.

But Mondo has always loved dogs. “Are you going to be able to focus if we let her be?” he asks. Mondo shakes his head quickly, and Taka sighs. “Alright, Hina. You have five minutes.”

She wastes no time throwing herself in the third chair at the table. “Alright, okay, so, y’know how I asked Sakura out?”

He fails to see how this was worth interrupting a study session over, but doesn’t get a chance to voice that opinion. “Yeah?” Mondo says. “She said yes, right?” 

“Yeah! But I kind of…” she makes some more gestures that don’t actually seem to be indicating anything. “I might have accidentally implied to her that it was going to be a double date, and I need someone to come with me!”

“How’d you manage that?” Mondo asks.

At the same time, Kiyotaka states, “I don’t know what that has to do with me.”

She gives Taka a look like he’s being dense on purpose, but answers Mondo’s question first. “That’s not important,” she says to him, and to Kiyotaka, “Because I need you to come with us!”

“No.” 

She looks shocked. “What? Please! Come on, Makoto bailed on me and I cannot bring Byakuya.”

“Why not?”

“Dude, are you for real?” Mondo asks. “Everyone hates that guy.”

Taka forgets, for a minute, the overarching issue to argue the point. “I do not hate Byakuya, and I don’t believe Makoto does either. He is just…difficult.”

“He’s a pain in the -”

“Guys, please! Focus here!” Hina illustrates her point by hitting the table a couple of times. “Taka, please, I will do anything you ask!” 

It’s far more than he’d wanted to share with anyone, and in the middle of work at that, but he sighs and says “Hina, that would be my first date ever. I was sort of hoping it would be more… _significant_. Besides, who would I even go with?”

He completely misses how quickly Mondo says “I’ll do it. I’ll go with you,” and how fast his face turns red at it all. 

* * *

Mondo’s thankful as fuck that Hina’s idea of a date is just dinner and a movie, because he is starting to realize that two days advanced warning is not nearly as much time as he thought it was. 

In other words, he has no idea what the fuck to talk to Taka about. He’s not even entirely sure his friend understands what’s meant by double date, since he seems to be approaching this entire thing as chaperoning Hina and Sakura as opposed to, you know. Him and Mondo also being on a date. At the same time. In the same space.

And no one seems to have told him.

Hina followed him out of the writing center with a newly marked-up paper in hand and turned to him, hand on his forearm tight as hell and said, “I hope you appreciate the favor I’m doing you here.”

He scowled at her, knowing full well that his scowl didn’t have half the effect on his college friends that it did on his classmates in high school. “What’re you talkin’ about? We’re doin’  _you_  a favor.” She rolled her eyes. “Please, Hina, you cannot say this was just your idea of hookin’ us up. ‘Specially since it ain’t gonna work.” 

“Alright, alright,” she grumbled, “But I did pick you over Toko for a reason. Or Hajime and his like, eighteen boyfriends.” 

“I think it’s just three guys and a girlfriend.”

She said “Whatever!” and let Mondo panic for the next forty-eight hours or so. 

And here they are now, he can kinda see why she wanted a double date. He’s always thought of Hina and Taka being the same in how exuberant they were about their special interests, their determination and loyalty to their friends. But when it came to interacting, he apparently has more in common with Sakura. 

Read: they’re both awkwardly quiet. 

Oh, man. He’s been expecting Taka to be lacking in conversational topics, but since he’s never spent time alone with Sakura he didn’t realize how quiet and contemplative she was. Unless she was just shy, but - he didn’t really know. Jesus. 

Hina has no issue filling up the silence with lots of chatter that Taka looks like he’s having a hard time following, his eyes spacing out occasionally and knees bouncing under the table. 

Mondo reaches out under the table and puts his hand on Taka’s knee, leaning over. “Are you okay?” he mutters, when Sakura picks out something from Hina’s babbled nonsense to talk about. 

“I’m fine,” he says, voice too loud, not looking at anyone in particular. 

“If you wanna bail, man, I gotchu covered.”

Taka shakes his head, but leans over, pressing his body against Mondo’s. “I know I need to - socialize, more -” he doesn’t finish the thought, throwing his arm out with too much force to grab his water and draining half the glass in one go. 

He can’t seem to make up his mind about whether he wants to sit as close to Mondo as he can possibly get without sitting directly in his lap, or sitting far away from touching anybody. And Mondo thinks it’s probably a good thing that he’s not trying out a first date with a stranger, because the other patrons are looking at them weirdly while their party just goes on like nothing is wrong.

“Kiyotaka,” Sakura addresses, “If you are uncomfortable, you do not have to stay.” 

“Hm? No! No, it’s - I’m sorry,” he mumbles, staring at the table. “I don’t really know how to act in this kind of social situation. I always thought dates were with random strangers, not - not your friends?”

Sakura huffs softly. “That is how some people do it, yes. But plenty of us find that building a romantic relationship from friendship works best, so that you have a foundation to build on. Relax. You are among friends. Simply act as you normally would.” 

He nods, trying to take a breath. “Okay. Right. O- Okay! But, er. I need to -”

Hina’s eyes get wide. “Oh! Okay. Right. Do you need to, uh - go to the restroom?” 

“Yes!” he shouts. 

…and they’re off. “That’s weird,” Mondo mumbles. “You don’t think they’re gonna talk about us while they’re gone, do ya?”

“He has nothing but good things to say about you.” She’s smirking.

Mondo feels weirdly embarrassed about it. Or maybe not, embarrassed…flustered, he guesses. “Ya really think so?”

“I have never heard him speak ill of you.”

“I mean, yeah, but like - he don’t shit-talk anyone,” Mondo says. “I dunno, like, what his deal is with me - what our deal is.”

“I can’t answer that,” she says. He swallows, and nods. Even if she knew, it’d be a dick move on her part to just divulge that kind of thing. “However. He usually scripts out what he will say about his classmates, to make sure that he is saying only good things about them, and worries over every word. He does not do that when he talks about you.” 

They come back quickly, Taka looking a lot less freaked out than he had before they left. “You okay?” he asks.

He nods, being more careful when he picks up his glass this time. “I just needed…some time to adjust,” he says.


	4. day 4: identity shenanigans

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warning for aphobic comments made by Hiyoko and also her just generally being a bitch. referenced Hiyoko/Mahiru and Hajime/Nagito. there's also very brief mention of the discourse around the word 'queer.'

They’re painting up a couple banners for their bake sale when the question finally comes up. “So, guys,” Makoto says, voice breaking a little in anxiety. “I have a question I’ve been meaning to ask.” 

Mahiru doesn’t even look up from what she’s doing, just says “Go ahead. Shoot.” 

Makoto looks at Kiyotaka, and he takes up the question from there. “We have been wondering if this club’s name is proper.”

He can hear a groan that’s probably…

Well, no. Actually, it’s several groans. Mondo’s just the one who voices the opinion. “Just say it straight out, asshole.” 

Sometimes, Makoto really feels like hitting that guy. Or he would, if he didn’t scare the shit out of him. “What he means is - we have both been wondering if we can really call this a gay-straight alliance.” 

“Well, that is what we are,” Hajime says, propped up on the desk at the front. He’s not actually contributing to the banner decorating, just kind of hanging out like most of them are. 

“But I don’t believe anyone in here is straight,” Kiyotaka says. 

“Hifumi’s straight,” Mahiru says.

“Excuse me, but no, I am not.” He actually takes a break from the shading he’s putting on Kiyotaka’s stenciling to look up. “I’m asexual.”

“It’s the same thing,” Hiyoko jeers. “And you probably just say that ‘cause you’re too fat for anyone to have sex with.”

Hifumi isn’t usually one to embrace conflict, but he looks ready to take this one on. Chihiro cuts him off before he can, snapping “That is more than enough! It is not the same thing, a-and you don’t need to be - to be rude about it!” 

 _“Well done,”_  Kiyotaka whispers to them. They smile back, eyes a little watery but not quite in the tears they had been at the start of the year. Mondo slaps them on the back to show his pride, and Hifumi mutters his thanks.

Not that it’s enough to stop Hiyoko, but Hajime does know her well enough by now to say “One more word out of you and I will physically punt you from the room” before she actually gets her next bite in. She looks to her girlfriend for help, and Mahiru ignores her. 

Hajime turns back to freshmen, legs swinging under the desk. “Alright, so if none of us are straight, what do you suggest we call this then? Taka, Makoto?” 

Makoto and Taka share a look again. They hadn’t actually planned past this, and it’s starting to show. “We could do something along the lines of…Organization of Sexual Minorities and Allies?” Taka suggests.

“I think that’s a little long,” Mahiru says. “Even if we shortened it to OSMA, I don’t think people would really know what that means. GSA is more well-established as an acronym.” 

“Why don’t we do something that sounds less…I don’t know, clinical?” Makoto suggests. “Something like - Queer Council? The alliteration makes it sound kind of fun.” 

“Nah, that word’s too loaded,” Mondo says. “Say that in the wrong places ‘n people’ll lose their shit about it.” 

“Let’s just cut it down to the basics and embrace the future filled with hope -”

“Nagito,” Hajime says, pointing his phone at him threateningly, “I love you, but for the love of God. Don’t start that shit again.”

He frowns. “Let’s just call ourselves the Gay Agenda.” Mondo snorts. “Do you have a better suggestion?”

“Nah, I like that. It’s ballsy. Kinda has a ‘fuck you’ air to it.” 

“Do you really need to be so crass?” Kiyotaka asks. 

Mondo sneers at them. “Hey, hall monitor: suck my dick.”

“Keep the flirting for after the club, please,” Hajime says, once again cutting off the no doubt snide remark Hiyoko was planning. “Is everyone here okay with that name change, or at least proposing a name change at the next meeting?”

“I think ‘the Gay Agenda’ would work well as a headline, so I’m all for it,” Mahiru says.

“I could care less,” Hiyoko offers.

“Then why are you here?” Taka asks.

“Mind your own fucking business, you ugly shitstain!” 

“HEY! YOU SHUT YOUR FUCKING MOUTH WHEN YOU’RE TALKIN’ TA HIM -” Leon drops his paint brush, physically grabbing Mondo by the back of his jacket to keep him from going after her. 

Hiyoko shrieks in a combination of laughter and anger. “WHAT DOES THAT EVEN MEAN? HOW FUCKING STUPID ARE YOU?”

“Guys! Knock it off, or both of you: leave!” Hajime orders. “Now, I’m gonna guess Nagito votes yes on his own idea - no, don’t speak, please - and that Mondo agrees. So: Chihiro, Leon, Hifumi. Any input?”

“I think it works well, but I wouldn’t want to make a decision without the other members here,” Chihiro says. “I think we should leave it until we have the full group around to make a decision.”

“Yeah, what they said,” Leon says, still rubbing Mondo’s back to calm him down. 

Hifumi tries not to look at any particular person as he says, “Well, I would prefer to have something that includes the members of our club who may be gender minorities as well. Maybe someone at the next meeting will have a suggestion that’s all-inclusive?”

“Alright, it’s settled. Next week we decide on a new name.” Hajime slaps his hand on the desktop. “Impromptu meeting adjourned.” 


	5. day 5: AU free-for-all

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright. So the background for this is I was half-asleep when I read the prompt initially and the AU wound up being a crossover. So this is a crossover with JoJo's Bizarre Adventure. I don't think you need to know anything about it in order to get it since it's from Mondo's POV so he doesn't know what the fuck is going on. But for the sake of clarity: Takaaki was married to the same woman who happened to be Jolyne's mom. He met Jotaro through her and they got married...I have a whole extended fuckery AU connected to this that I might eventually write as its own separate thing. All that's really important in this context is: the kids from Diamond is Unbreakable are there, and Josuke (and by extension, the whole Joestar-Kujo-Giovanna-Brando family) are related to Taka by marriage. 
> 
> Yeah. It was three in the morning and my roommate is an enabler. 
> 
> You can easily skip this chapter if you're not into JJBA and not miss anything. Josuke/Okuyasu/Koichi.

He’s coming to the conclusion that Kiyotaka’s family is just fucking weird. He’s still not exactly sure what their relationship status is, since they’ve only been on like two and a half dates that might have not even been dates and nothing between them seems to have actually  _changed_  - but even speaking as a best friend, it was just really fucking bizarre.

The other sections of the bake sale that did not have an entire bottle’s worth of food coloring dumped into the mix did exceedingly well, letting them schedule trips to meet up and hang out with the GSAs from other colleges in the area. It was a neat little idea Makoto and Kiyotaka had come up with on their own time that also kinda made Mondo want to punch himself in the face. 

It mostly just starts with this: he thinks he has competition.

The reason he thinks this is because Leon tells him he does. They’re meeting with MU in a bowling alley that’s somewhere in between both schools and while it’s not the only GSA in the area, it is the only one available or interested in reaching out to them. And the gaggle of students who pick to play against them in a four-on-four match just happens to consist of three rough looking boys and one chick.

Strike one. It’s not exactly a secret that Taka has a type, and that type is punks. (Well, and Makoto; but he’s everybody’s type, so he doesn’t count.) He’s never said out loud that he finds that kinda thing appealing, but Hifumi’s Halloween Theme suggestion, “Book of Eibon” (which earned him the group name moniker Anime Trash) really took. People dressed as whatever they found most attractive - or in Hifumi’s and Chihiro’s cases, the kind of aesthetic they really dug.

Hifumi’s magical girl outfit was absolutely outstanding. They really did have to give him that.

…where was he? Right. Taka had shown up to the party in all secondhand clothes, studded belt and motorcycle boots and fake piercings, pleather jacket over an embroidered white vest covered in safety pins. It sure as shit left an impression.

And it was such a goddamn come-on. he’d thought before then that Taka’s staring was judgmental and had a hard time stringing two words together at the implication that he was staring because he was  _attracted_  to Mondo.

Not that Mondo was the only punk in the group. Tanaka flushed and tried to hide beneath his scarf, realizing too late he didn’t have it included in the regal get-up he came dressed in. And Leon said to Mondo, “If I wasn’t straight, I’d so hit that.”

Leon figured out pretty quickly that he wasn’t straight, and also that Taka was way off limits. 

Mondo’s been trying to figure out how to take a more direct approach, since Taka’s misconstrued all his flirting as friendliness. Which - okay, yeah. He’s kind of learned along the way that he might also be in love with the guy platonically, too. He is the best friend, in terms of quality, that Mondo’s ever had, and he doesn’t plan on that shit changing just ‘cause he wants to add hand-holding into the mix. 

So strike two is this: Ishimaru seems to actually know the guy in too much purple who practically launches himself at him. They embrace in a tight hug, and that smug asshole has his hairstyle too. Rude. Utterly, unbelievably rude. 

The guy introduces himself as Josuke. He looks like he might be a couple years older than them, with pretty blue eyes. He’s the president of the MU GSA, which he does not hesitate to tell Kiyotaka, “I love what you did with the name, dude. Very kewl.”

 _Kewl_. Like he’s fucking twelve and it’s the nineties.

Taka blushes like he does when he’s embarrassed or flattered and it takes a lot for Mondo not to slug the guy. He’s really only distracted from Kiyotaka’s refusal of the credit by the guy with the little ponytail and two-toned grey hair saying to him “Hey, man, nice mods,” referring to his jacket.

He’s kind of forgotten about it. He doesn’t wear the longer coat he had in high school anymore because yeah, he’s not in high school anymore, thank you very much Daiya. “Uh, thanks,” he says, but the shorter one with the kinda silvery blonde hair is smirking at it, mouthing the words  _Crazy Diamonds_  under his breath. Like it’s some kind of joke.

“I’m Okuyasu,” he says, and nudges the blonde so hard the guy almost falls over. “Shit, sorry - this is Koichi.” 

“Right,” he says, not liking the look of private joking between the two of them. “I’m Mondo.”

“I’m Leon,” Leon all but shouts, almost crawling on Mondo’s back to extend his hand to the two boys and - of course, of fucking course - the girl with the knee-length black hair. “And you are?”

“Yukako,” she says, and Mondo’s never before heard someone say their own name with such deep and intense hatred. 

There’s not a single thing about these people he trusts. The guys might seem nice, but he’s always hated the feeling that people are laughing at him. And that girl? She looks like she’s ready to commit murder. 

At least the jackass in the purple-and-yellow shirt is done taking up Kiyotaka’s time, only that Kiyotaka looks kind of embarrassed now. He’s not sure if that’s better or worse than his flustered face. But he punches in their names on the board to distract himself, and Josuke comes up to Mondo and sits so close their knees are touching. “So,” he says, “You’re his  _kyoudai_ , huh?”

“ _Kyoudai_?” Okuyasu says. “Man, how come we can’t get cool nicknames like that?”

“Yes, please start calling each other bro. That won’t get irritating at all,” Yukako snipes from where she’s sitting. 

“Yukako, come on,” Koichi says, turning to look back at her. “You promised you’d be nice today.”

She looks torn, but sighs, and Mondo thinks he hears her mutter “Only for you.” 

“Dude,” Leon says, “You gotta teach me.” 

* * *

One thing Mondo can say about the kids from MU is that, except for Yukako, they suck at bowling. And that does make him feel a little better, if only in a shallow way. 

It’s kind of irritating, and that irritation must be obvious to everyone involved, because Kiyotaka has tried his best to keep Mondo and Josuke separated. Leon’s pretty chill, and Makoto can make friends with everyone, but it just seems strange to Mondo that he spent so long trying to get on friendly terms with Taka only for some other guy - a complete stranger from a different school to just undermine that -

Makoto pats his shoulder, like the way you’d pet a dog to soothe it. “Calm down, Mondo,” he says. “He’s just being friendly.”

 _Maybe_  he is. Mondo can accept that there exists, somewhere, a possibility that Josuke is just a nice guy, like a punk version of Makoto, but he’s gotten so deep in his own sense of insecurity and paranoia that every time Josuke so much as talks at him or is friendly with Kiyotaka…

Well, it feels like he’s being mocked.

He might be a little jealous.

And when Taka leaves to head out to the bathroom, he might call Josuke’s hair stupid. 

Koichi, for whatever that’s worth, and Okuyasu and he goddamn swear Yukako’s hair all jump in to restrain Josuke from throwing punches. Leon slaps his arm at the same time Makoto smacks his head, both of them shouting some variant of “You have the same hair!” and the end result is the five of them tell the two of them to go resolve their differences by the snack bar, and work something out fast before Taka comes back and panics. 

“I don’t get what your issue with me is,” Josuke says, hands in the air. “We picked this group to go up against because Taka said you were cool. Now you’re just acting like Rohan used to, and I didn’t even burn your house down!”

Confusion mixes with anger as he says, with feeling, “ _What?!_ ”

“Never mind!” Josuke snaps. “Just - whatever your problem with me is, just say it, man. Quit giving me dirty looks. It’s making Kiyo upset.”

 _KIYO?!_  Mondo hits the counter with a little too much force and says “ _That’s_  my goddamn problem!” And before Josuke can give him some other ridiculous pet name he says “We’re like - we’re - we’re kind of - !” Jesus. Jesus Christ, why can’t he just get the fuckin’ words out? “I’m inta him!”

“Yeah, and?” Josuke asks.

“And you’re fuckin’ flirting with him! Of course I got a damn issue with you!” Josuke looks blindsided for a couple seconds, and then he bursts into laughter. “And then you go an’ do this shit, shovin’ it in my face!”

“Dude!” Josuke has the audacity to put his hand on Mondo’s shoulder, ignoring every time Mondo tries to throw it off. For someone as thin as Josuke looks, he’s unfairly strong. “Dude. I am not flirting with him. That’s so gross.” 

Two-faced bastard! “You got a fuckin’ problem with my friend?!” 

“Dude. He’s my  _cousin_.”

“Yer - what?” Mondo blinks, all his pent up energy dissipating in the shock. “Then - then what the fuck were you sayin’ ta him to make ‘im blush?”

“I’m teasing him about you, ya dweeb.” He snorts. “God. No. I’m not flirting with my fuckin’ cousin. And even if we weren’t related, I’m not gonna hit on some guy in front of my boyfriends.”

“Oh.” He’s…totally deflated now. And feels like an asshole. “Uh…” Great. “I’m sorry fer bein’ such an asshole,” he grumbles.

Josuke lets it slide rather easily, shrugging it off. “Don’t worry about it. I’ve had worse interactions.” 

Mondo still rubs the back of his head, anxiously, and he’s still not all that comfortable with Josuke’s smirk. “Gotta say,” he admits, “I never woulda thought the two of you were related. Ya don’t exactly look alike.” 

Josuke shoves his hands in his pockets and leans back against the counter. “Well, it’s not by blood or anything. His dad married my ne- uh, I mean, my uncle -” Was he just going to say nephew? “But we take family very seriously, and we’re…kind of a large family.” 

For a second, he looks almost depressed by his own statement, eyes kind of foggy, lips pulled down and staring at his boyfriends with some kind of intense anxiety. He sighs, and slaps Mondo on the back. “Let’s just get back to the game, ‘kay? I think Taka’ll be happier when we get along.” 

He feels like he missed something, but says “Sure, okay,” following Josuke back to their seats. 

Whatever it is that’s on his mind, it’s either passed or he’s hidden it by the time they’ve reached their friends. Josuke reacts to Kiyotaka’s suspicious glare by ruffling his hair. “So, Kiyo -”

“Don’t call me that,” he groans. 

And Josuke ignores him. “A former delinquent with a bad temper, huh? I bet your stepdad’s gonna love that.” 

Kiyotaka lets out a scream, and drops the bowling ball to the floor. Mondo tries to pretend he doesn’t see something faintly pink and blue grabbing it just before it hits the ground.


	6. day 6: discovery

Kiyotaka is not given the option to choose his roommate; if he was, he would still pick Makoto Naegi. 

Makoto is, all around, a nice guy. Most people take to Kiyotaka’s overbearing personality the way oil takes to water - by interacting as little as possible, and never blending. He expects his relationship with his roommate will be much the same. 

He doesn’t know what he’s like to live with but he’s always made it his goal to be as respectful as possible. He keeps most of his things to his room and his room tidy. He doesn’t mess with his parents’ things so he won’t disrupt their work. He knows he talks too loud, but he doesn’t talk to himself much, so it shouldn’t be an issue. 

As far as roommates go, he could probably do worse than Naegi. He doesn’t seem as invested in school itself as Kiyotaka is, but most people aren’t. He’s polite, doesn’t mock him, and is the one to suggest they stick together through orientation. Although that part gets kind of muddy, pushed around as they are by the people around them.

It doesn’t look like they have any of the same classes. There was some kind of scheduling error at the registrar’s office and Makoto just got dropped into whatever classes were still open. Kiyotaka offers to go down and discuss it with her, but Makoto admits it’s probably for the best. 

“I don’t even know what to major in,” he admits. 

He doesn’t talk much about himself. It’s probably the first time Taka’s ever had someone interested in learning more about him and had almost nothing to offer in return. He has a sister still in high school, where he got average grades and didn’t play any sports or join any clubs.

He thinks about telling Naegi. But at the end of the day, no matter how nice he seems, Kiyotaka knows that it can turn in an instant. 

* * *

The fun thing about college is this: it is filled with boys. High school was too, but those had all been boys who’d known him for too long. Boys  _he’d_  known for too long to find them distracting. Boys with no ambition. Boys who were…just so very, very straight. Kiyotaka hadn’t thought much about boys before, but he’s in college now. 

The activities fair, or whatever they call it, has a booth set up for HPU’s Gay-Straight Alliance. Kiyotaka puts his name down without looking to see if he knows any of the names, because that would be a breach of confidentiality. It’s out in the open already, he knows, but something about looking just feels wrong. 

They have their first meeting about three weeks into the school year.

He’s early for it, part nerves and part habit. If the look on the club president’s face is anything to go by, they remember him, and it makes him feel intensely awkward. He picks a seat in the back and stares at the table and hopes he hasn’t made some sort of mistake in showing up. 

People file in, some of them with friends and some of them on their own. Most of them seem to be older than Kiyotaka, but there’s a couple who come in that he knows are his age - he’s even seen two or three of them in his classes, although given his track record he doubts they’d want to talk to him outside of class.

Or in class, for that matter. 

There’s a lot more people in here than he was expecting there to be, and so far no one seems to be going out of their way to avoid him, and only one person seems to have a problem with him. Which, to be fair, he was staring. 

 _Is_  staring. 

He can’t help it. He has a type. 

“What’re you starin’ at?” he snaps, and it takes a lot for Kiyotaka to not just say say  _you_. People think he’s weird enough without the automatic attraction he feels to, well…bad boys. 

“Mondo, come on, don’t be rude,” says the person behind him. They push him to go sit down at the seat farthest from him, looking back over their shoulder and mouthing to Kiyotaka, “Sorry, he’s nervous.” Which Mondo doesn’t seem to appreciate much, going by the irritated look on his face. 

He tries to relax and keep himself from staring more, but in addition to simply finding Mondo attractive, he feels like he’s seen him before somewhere. He just can’t determine when. 

“Is this everybody?” the president asks. 

Before he can move on to the first item on the agenda, someone throws their hand on the closing door and says, “Whoops! Sorry.” 

It’s Makoto.

For a minute, Kiyotaka’s heart rate speeds up, not sure how he’s supposed to react or how Makoto will react to seeing him there. But Makoto sees him and exhales, looking relieved, and makes his way to the last open seat next to him. “I’m glad someone I know came,” he says.

* * *

They get dinner together with two of the girls from the club, one of whom Makoto knows from middle school. Sayaka, she says her name is, is bubbly and cheerful and incredibly talkative. The other girl, Kyouko, seems content to people watch, not interacting much.

On the way back to their dorm, Makoto says, “So.” And then he just stops talking, trying to form the other words in his head before he says them. “Do you- I mean, is it okay if I ask?” 

“Ask what?” 

“What your, uh…affiliation is?” Most people are back in their dorms by now, tired from the first day or first day back at school, but he still seems kind of nervous. 

He waits until they’re up the stairs and in their room to say, “I’m trans.” He pauses. “And gay.” 

Makoto visibly relaxes again. “Me too!” He rubs the back of his head. “Well, pan. But also trans. So do you - do you mind if I?”

Kiyotaka blinks, trying to figure out what he’s asking without using his words. “Take your binder off?” he guesses. Makoto nods. “Yes! Please, if you have been wearing it all day, take a break.” Makoto turns his back, pulling off his shirt and then his binder, breathing labored, pulling his shirt back on. Kiyotaka can’t help but feel a little concerned for him, frowning. “How long have you been wearing that?”

“Er, well, I got up at seven, so…” They both look at their watches.

“That’s twelve hours!” He’s being too loud again, Makoto indicating with his hands that he needs to quiet down. “Sorry, that’s just - you really shouldn’t wear it any more than eight hours!”

“I know, I know… Uh…” Makoto watches him take of his jacket and shirt, removing his own binder. “I think you got up before me, though.”

Kiyotaka flinches. “Right. Ah.” 

“Hey, Taka,” Makoto starts, once he’s changed into something else, “What if we just make it a rule that neither of us can wear our binders in the room? Just to make sure we actually spend some time with it off.” 

It sounds good, but he just - “Taka?” 

He blinks. “Oh. Uh, yeah.” He looks at the ground. “Just a nickname. Is that…okay?”

He’s never had a nickname before. “Yes. That’s good.” 

“Which?” Makoto asks.

“Both,” Taka says.


	7. day 7: underground

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It'll probably be kind of obvious that I wasn't sure what to do with this prompt. 
> 
> There's violence and implied NSFW, homophobia and transphobia. None of it's graphic but those are still the warnings for this chapter.

The education Mondo gets in high school is almost exclusively from his brother. Not, like, books and shit, although his brother was his primary tutor - and sometimes his primary teacher, when Mondo’s had given up on him. He got to college on what his brother knew, and he’s thankful for that, but his brother taught him something better:

How to stand up for yourself, and other people. 

He knows Taka’s gonna bitch and complain about the party. In all fairness, he’s right about the possibility for them to get hurt, but that’s a possibility anywhere they go no matter how safe or progressive the university tries (or pretends it tries) to be. So it still kinda shocks the hell out of him that he shows up anyway, wearing pristine jeans and knee-high boots, thoroughly annoyed and  _here anyway_.

Mondo doesn’t know what the hell to make of this guy. He’s kinda hot in a way that makes him feel confused. He likes guys, yeah, but he doesn’t tend to like guys like this who push his buttons and normally they avoid him like the plague. 

Mondo thinks they might be friends. 

“I’m surprised you’re coming out with us, Taka,” Chihiro says, smiling brightly at their little group. It’s them, Mondo, Leon, Taka and those twins who always give people scary looks. 

“Well, somebody had to come and make sure you all stay safe,” he says, but there’s something in his voice that makes Mondo wonder if that’s the real reason he’s with them tonight.

Leon certainly doesn’t buy it, rolling his eyes. “Really, dude? Do you even know how to defend yourself?” Taka decides to prove it to him by grabbing his arm and doing something that drops Leon to his knees shouting “Jesus Christ! Okay, okay, I believe you!” 

Once Taka’s moved away, walking between Chihiro and the twin who always dresses like a soldier, Leon mutters to him, “Damn, dude almost gave me a fear boner.” Mondo groans, wondering when Leon’s gonna just admit to himself he’s not as straight as he thinks he is. 

* * *

Taka seems confused by the double-meaning of the term “underground” and questions, at first, why they’re not actually underground. Mondo doesn’t stick around to explain it to him, because he hasn’t seen his brother in four months and whatever Taka’s deal is, he’s someone else’s problem for the moment. 

Parties like this - hell, parties anywhere aren’t really known for their accessibility, so Mondo’s gotta take a while to meet his brother and get him down. All while dodging his question about classes, because if he actually wanted to talk about that shit he’d have stuck with Taka. Maybe Daiya will get along with his college friends, after all. 

The twins have completely disappeared, Leon tells him. Taka told them not to go too far, and they told him they were more than capable of handling themselves. It didn’t make him feel any better, so he tried to follow and was now, presumably, lost somewhere in the middle of everyone else. 

Daiya tells him he looks upset, and he tells his brother to shut up. 

Leon and Chihiro disappear into the crowd to go dance and mingle and meet people, and Taka still hasn’t come back and Mondo’s not sure if he’s more nervous about that or irritated that he’s not joining them. 

“Dude,” Daiya says, smacking his arm. “Go dance. Ain’t like I’m goin’ anywhere.” 

“I’m not gonna leave ya here by yourself. I’m not that much of a dick,” he says.

Daiya rolls his eyes. “Been comin’ to this shit way longer than you, kid. I know other people here.” He waves at one, a with a septum piercing and electric green braids. “Go find yer boyfriend and dance.”

“He’s not my boyfriend,” Mondo snaps.

“Yeah, and I betchu ain’t blushin’ now either.” 

God dammit. He hates it when Daiya does this. He hates it when Daiya’s  _right_. 

It shouldn’t be this hard to find Taka. Or, for that manner, Mukuro and Junko, the latter of whom stands out with her mass of pink hair. But they all sort of blend in here, and Mondo finds himself staring at the footwear for Taka’s ridiculous boots. 

They’re in the middle of what’s shaping up to be a ring, two guys - one shirtless and one in some kinda mesh thing - grinding up on him. And he looks caught between exhilarated and terrified, but the discomfort seems to be winning out. Mondo’s fully prepared to leave him there and not deal with whatever feeling’s clawing at his stomach, but when Taka's eyes find his they widen and it looks like he’s mouthing  _help me_. For all he knows, Taka could be shouting it, unheard.

Mondo winks at him, and comes over, stretching his arm out across a twink trying real hard to be a hunk and says “Sorry, boys, he’s not DTF.” He pulls Taka out with his arm over his shoulders, and the guys look disgruntled at his departure, but forget it quickly. 

“DTF?” he asks.

“You don’t want to know,” Mondo tells him, although he’s certain if he asks it again, Leon or Daiya will tell him. “You alright?” 

“Yes! It’s just. Overwhelming.” He huffs out, his breathing exaggerated. “And I don’t know how to dance.”

“Yeah, man, I can tell. Ya look ridiculous.” 

“At least I’m trying,” he says. “You don’t get better without practice, even if you look stupid at first!”

“I can ‘preciate that,” Mondo says. He keeps his hand on Taka’s back, still rising and falling too rapidly. “Are you sure you’re okay? Yer breathin’ kinda hard.” 

“I -” Mondo pulls him out into the alleyway, as far from the noise as he can get without leaving the venue entirely. “Do- Do they have a bathroom?” 

Mondo pulls him off to a door leading into something and instinctively pushes him back for a second. “You’ll wanna close yer eyes,” he says, glaring at two guys whose hands are not where they should be, pushing Taka back to a stall -

That he doesn’t go in. His hands are jittery as he starts to pull his shirt off -

“What? What the fuck are you -” 

Oh. 

He turns quickly, blocking any view of him from people coming in. Including two guys who are absolutely not looking for a toilet. “ _Beat it!_ ” he snarls. 

“…Mondo?” His breath still sounds so shaky, his back touching Mondo’s. 

“Yeah?” he says. 

“You’re really a nice guy.” 

Mondo almost chokes. “Thanks?” 

“I- I really h-have not been fair t-to you -”

That stutter’s really starting to worry him. He doesn’t bother waiting to see if Taka’s done buttoning up his shirt, spinning around to help him out. “It’s fine, man, don’t sweat it. Jus’ try not t’ die of dehydration or somethin’, ok?” 

* * *

It’s not too obvious that he’s out of his binder, although Mondo doubts anyone here would notice anyway. He hangs on the edge of the party most of the time, introducing Taka to his brother once Daiya comes back over with his friend.

Daiya sees Taka, and he smirks. “Long time, no see, huh?” 

Taka looks panicked. If it weren’t for the fact he nearly passed out earlier, Mondo would want an explanation. For now, he’ll just have to wait and hope to god Daiya doesn’t say something to really embarrass him. 

The girls have apparently left without them, and Leon comes back around with Chihiro on his shoulders, looking halfway to falling asleep. “You didn’t let ‘em take anythin’, right?” Daiya checks, and Leon shakes his head so fast that Mondo’s a little suspicious, but he’s hoping he’s just on edge from having someone almost collapse on him. 

The walk back to the dorms wakes Chi up and puts Taka in a better mood. Or at least, it starts to, before trouble shows up. 

And trouble is what Mondo’s education is in. 

It starts with catcalls. Chi went out in a dress, letting their hair grow out for the coming colder months. When they first hear the yelling, Chihiro moves closer to Leon. It’s a safe bet. He’s there on a baseball scholarship. Taka trails behind closely, trying to hide her from view. Somewhere along the line he grabs Mondo’s hand, probably just trying to keep them together as a group. 

Not that it matters. Not that they should have to. Not that any of it excuses the slurs they start hurling, Taka squeezing his hand and telling him just to ignore the guys. 

But it’s kinda hard to ignore them when they try whackin’ you upside the head. 

They manage to get a good hit on Taka, which is a wrong move to make ‘cause he’s wearing those fuckin’ boots and apparently they hurt like hell when they slam into your stomach. Mondo’s got that guy on the ground, and he loses track of where Chihiro and Leon went and where Taka ran off to. He assumes it’s to go call for help, ‘cause that seems right up his alley. Mondo doesn’t know how long it takes. He never really does when it comes to fighting. 

It’s his first time in three months he’s been in jail. In his defense, most of the times he’s been in jail have been for minor infractions. For stealing food he couldn’t afford to buy, for hitting guys harassing girls, and only once or twice for a fake ID. Leon looks proud of himself to be there. Taka’s the one he’s worried about. 

There’s a tear in the sleeve of his shirt. He’s just staring at it instead of at any of them or the missing buttons or the space in his pocket where binder must have fallen out. 

Leon looks at Mondo before he stands from where he’s been squatting in the corner, clapping Taka on the back, inspecting his bruised knuckles. Mondo wonders if it’s the first time he’s ever hit somebody. “I’m proud of you, man!” he says. “You said you could defend yourself, and you were right.” 

He just looks like he wants to vomit. 

One of the cops comes by, eyebrows raised, amused. “Someone’s here to see you,” she says, and Mondo assumes it’s Chihiro.

It’s not. 

But he does know this guy. 

The other guy’s a cop, too, someone he knows from way back and is probably disappointed to see his face again. He doesn’t stop in front of Mondo, though, heading to the end of the cell where Taka’s standing. “Are they with you?”

“Yes, father.” 

 _Father?_  Fuck. That clears up a couple questions, like why Taka seemed so familiar and what Daiya meant when he said  _Long time, no see_. Officer Ishimaru looks at Mondo, smiling a little, but it’d be a breach of confidentiality or something to let everyone else know they’ve met before. He just turns to the cop on duty and tells her he’ll take all three of them, and lets his son break down in his arms. 

When he goes by, he swears he hears him saying, “You did the right thing.” 


	8. day 8: elevator

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> some NSFW lyrics at the very end   
> (if the link doesn't work the song is "you need me, i don't need you" by ed sheeran)

A karaoke party of everyone in their club plus one family member just sounds like an invitation for disaster. It’s supposedly a bonding exercise, but Mondo wonders if Nagito just came up with it to fuck with them all. It sounds like the kind of thing he’d do. 

Daiya’s not available and although he probably could ask Michi to come instead, he’s not really sure if Michi’s ready for…well, this. Chances are good he’d take one look at the fancy ass high-rise Byakuya lives in and be overcome with the urge to beat the everloving shit out of the guy. He’s still got to finish out the year to graduate high school, so he needs to spend that time studying, anyway.

And then there’s this: seeing officer Ishimaru on his way in, making eye contact, and being bound by social obligation to take whatever way up he’s going.

Jesus.

He’s not normally one who gives a rat’s ass about that kind of thing but he might be sort of dating the guy’s son, and he can only imagine Taka getting upset and teary-eyed if they don’t get along. He’s not a bad guy, per se, but Mondo’s never felt comfortable around cops. 

Ishimaru holds the door open for Mondo to step in. 

He expects it to be several seconds of awkward silence, but this is the slowest goddamn elevator in the world. He’s actually starting to worry the thing’s just gonna break down and leave him prying the doors open with his bare hands like some kinda survival horror video game.

“Daiya couldn’t make it?” he asks. His voice is kinda quiet for being the father of the loudest guy Mondo’s ever met. It’s gruff, like he’s tired, but there’s no real tone behind it. He doesn’t sound as smug as people usually do when they ask Mondo that question.

“Nah, he’s got work.” He wonders for a minute if he’s gonna bring up the time Mondo and Leon and his son all got arrested together for beating the snot outta some homophobe, but he hadn’t seemed mad then and he doesn’t seem mad now. 

He should ask the guy a question, too. That’s only polite, right? “So what made you decide to become a cop?”

Or he could just shove his six-year-old shoes straight into his mouth. Good god, the fuck’s wrong with him? His voice even sounds up high in his throat and his nerves must be showing through the fabric of his t-shirt, internally chastising himself for not wearing something nicer -

“Because I was young and very very stupid,” he says. He’s not even looking at Mondo, rolling his eyes at his phone and turning the sound off. 

“Oh,” Mondo says. He blinks, not really sure what to say to that. It’s not the kind of answer he usually hears. “So do you… Not like it then?”

He shrugs. He looks so very, very tired. “I guess I did, at one point in time. It’s not an occupation I’d recommend.” 

“So then why dontcha leave it?” 

He’s never been this bold with the dad of a guy he’s gone out with before. Or the dad of any girl he’s ever gone out with, either. Maybe it’s just ‘cause he and his son look so much alike.

Maybe he’s just surprised to meet a cop not on the job 24/7. “I’m too old to try anything else now. If I quit, they’ll just say it’s another Ishimaru incompetent at his job.” 

“People sayin’ shit about Taka?!” 

His voice might be a little too loud when he says it, and Takaaki looks amused. “You didn’t do too well in political science, did you?” He feels himself flushing, but he can’t snap back at him. “My father was the Prime Minister.”

“Oh. That dick.” He slaps a hand over his mouth, but all Takaaki does is snort. “Sorry.” 

“Relax, kid, I don’t arrest guys for being right.” He sighs heavily, checking his phone. From where he stands, Mondo can see a new text from Taka, in all caps, panicked.  _So he nags his family too, huh_. “I wouldn’t arrest them for kicking the shit out of homophobes either, but I don’t make the laws.”

He just gets more embarrassed every time this guy opens his mouth, which he guesses is the point of parents. He’s never really had them himself, but he had Daiya and Daiya still likes to rib at him in front of others. Especially in front of guys he likes. “Officer, I’m sorry -”

“Taka likes you,” he interrupts. “He didn’t really feel comfortable being himself, even at home, until he got to college. I know part of it’s his roommate and part of it’s that whole club you guys are in. But I think most of it’s you.” He looks at Mondo and smiles, small but genuine. “So don’t bother apologizing for what happened. I meant what I said: You guys did the right thing. I’m glad he had someone there to back him up.” 

He can’t really make out what the hell it means that this is a cop who hates his job and seems to actively try and work against it. He’s already thought to himself that Taka’s family is pretty fuckin’ weird, and this guy’s no exception. But it does kinda put him at ease, knowing he doesn’t have to try so hard when they exit and make it to Togami’s floor.

And it goes right back to awkward when they walk in and Taka has control of the mic and sings, pointing and winking at Mondo,  _[“They say I’m up and coming like I’m fuckin’ in an elevator.”](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.youtube.com%2Fwatch%3Fv%3DQLf_xwH6osU&t=NTBhNDMwNDI1N2QzMmUyMTZlOWE2ZjVhMjlmMDAyMTM3YWQ2NjI4MywwemdaZkpKUQ%3D%3D&b=t%3AYsJsagBSBz5p9axmmQB2AA&p=https%3A%2F%2Fpunkpanicprince.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F185572132703%2Fpride-month-day-8-elevator-a-karaoke-party-of&m=1)_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ok so the preface of how I'm writing Takaaki in these is that like. a lot of people who join the police force wanting to make a positive difference in their community wind up becoming very jaded with the whole thing because the law either prevents them from doing things (like taking kids out of abusive homes) or conflicts with what they think the right thing to do is (like laws that are basically anti-homeless) and not being able to fix the structural injustice of their job either pushes them into quitting in frustration or winds up with them getting treated very poorly by their coworkers (like people who work for internal affairs). so i think Takaaki initially joins because he thinks it's the right thing to do or maybe even because he feels pressure to show that he's _not_ corrupt like his father and winds up hearing a lot of homophobic and transphobic nonsense at work and has just become a chaotic bisexual that's like. yeah okay whatever. i can't quit and my family really needs the money." without really wanting to contribute to all that noise.
> 
> i didn't think that would really fit in anywhere in the remaining prompts for the month but i'll just. reference it from time to time.


	9. day 9: closet

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is vaguely NSFW!! That's why I didn't publish it on tumblr at all.

Mondo asks him if he wants to go in the closet, and he refuses. Mondo looks embarrassed for even having asked, and starts running.

"It's not you," Taka says. "It's the closet." It just brings back bad memories of boys who broke his heart.

They're out on the deck, tinge of weed and beer in the air distant enough to not overwhelm the senses, and he says, "My first kiss was in the closet."

"Seven minutes in heaven?" Mondo asks.

"It was terrible," Taka answers. Mondo laughs, and he does too. "No one kisses well at fourteen."

"I wouldn't know," Mondo admits. I didn't have my first kiss until seventeen."

It's probably a good thing, Taka thinks. He remembers boyfriends using too much tongue, watching porn to get advice and finding it all kinds of gross. He never got into that kind of thing, even after his father told him it existed in a homosexual variety as well.

"My first time was in a closet," Taka blurts out. He doesn't mean to say it, and Mondo's eyebrows go up to his hairline. It's all such a mess,e very memory, agreeing to go along with it because he was sixteen and in love. he covers his face with his hands and says, "It didn't really feel good." 

"Yeah, I don' think that's ideal for a first time." There's something off about the way he says it and the expression on his face, but Taka can't think of what it is. Maybe he just can't relate.

Kiyotaka doesn't feel the draw all the time, but he feels it now: he thinks he'd _like_ to have sex with Mondo. He thinks he'd like it a lot.

"If we don't go int he closet," he says, "Then it's different."

Mondo's blushing not just on his cheeks but on every visible surface of his body. He asks, "Whaddaya mean?"

"Closets have doors." 

He's kind of into it. He spent a lot of time structuring himself around not being his grandfather, around being everything that he wasn't, around following every tightly knit line laid out for him to act Just So and stay in line, be accepted. Be useful, be a boy. Hate your body. Don't enjoy sex. 

Mondo doesn't care about the lines. His hands are warm and he smells good and he's the one being pulled up the stairs to an end-hall linen closet. The bedrooms at parties are for fucking, and they're not quite there yet. 

His back is warm too. Taka thinks about what it would be like somewhere else or even here if the rooms weren't occupied instead of just grinding against the door of the linen closet. 

He kind of likes the push between them, the argument of who's against the door even if it makes little sense for it to be Mondo. he can hear someone else's high-pitched breathing and whats to know what Mondo's sounds like. 

They've got their flies undone, enough to touch each other. "Fuck the closet," Mondo growls, but he's still gentle against Kiyotaka's hips and thighs. He's got him sort of pushed up the door so his bulge presses against the wet stretch of fabric between Taka's legs.

His intuition is correct. He likes the press, every point where their skin contacts. he likes the way Mondo's hips stutter when he says "No, fuck _me_ ," and the groan against his ear.

It's not loud enough. he wants to know what it is to be alone with him and be consumed. He wants to hear what Mondo sounds like when he cums without distractions. 

He gasps and he moans and Mondo's fingers dig in against his ass. He climaxes and for once he doesn't just feel empty about it. 

Mondo's breath feels wet on his neck, against the sweat and the spit. He doesn't care about the people tumbling out of the rooms or someone else's bed. He just thinks about his own, and how good Mondo Oowada would look in it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> that's right boys, Mondo Oowada is a fuckin _virgin_


	10. day 10: coming out

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i've never written kuzupeko before so this was my first. attempt at it.   
> in case it wasn't clear uhh. fuyuhiko's trans in this. that's part of why he's panicking.  
> there's mentions of transphobia but i didn't feel like getting too much into it when i wrote it up so there's no graphic remarks on it, just casual shit you deal with when you're the rainbow sheep of the family.
> 
> (if the emoji doesn't show up: it's supposed to be a rolling eyes emoji.)

> 1 NEW MSSG FROM:  
> TAKA  
> Please tell me Fuyu-  
> hiko will be coming  
> with you.

Peko sighs and shakes her head - not at her panicked cousin, but at this whole stupid situation. She knows he tried to talk his stepdad into letting him skip this family get together, but he’d had no sympathy. If he had, he would have taken pity on  _them all_ no matter how dangerous he said his work was. And his half-sister was with her mom.

What a mess. But then, their family always has been.

> TO: TAKA  
> Yes. Expect a fight  
> to break out. 🙄

She doesn’t know why he doesn’t bring his own boyfriend with him. If the rumors about his temper are true, then she can say this with honesty: it can’t possibly get any worse. Hell, maybe Fuyuhiko would appreciate the backup when it comes down to the inevitable argument about this year’s latest discourse.

> 1 NEW MSSG FROM:  
> TAKAAKI  
> Please don’t bring your  
> sword, might be temp-  
> ted to use it.

Like night and day, he and his son are sometimes. Taka’s so concerned with keeping the family peace, and her uncle’s just waiting for the minute it all falls apart. “You ready to go?” she calls out into the hallway, tapping out a quick reply.

> TO: TAKAAKI  
> Cousin Nikki?

“Yeah, just one - shit -  _motherfucker!_ ”

Peko sighs and shoves the phone in her pocket. She gets the impression that he’s stalling, even if he doesn’t realize he’s doing it. She can’t blame him; her mom and uncle are pretty open, but the rest of their shared family…

Well.

* * *

They finally get on the road about fifteen minutes later than planned. Fuyuhiko’s anxious about it, ranting under his breath to try and cover his fear with anger. After about an hour of blowing off steam he finally takes up her offer of pulling out the Switch, but there’s still a lot of guilt on his face when he checks on his Eevee.

Her phone buzzes with a text that’s probably from her cousin, having taken up the  _you’re not here yet oh god did you crash are you dead on the side of the road_ mantle after their grandmother passed two summers ago. Fuyuhiko grabs it, checks it, sighs with a smile.

“Your uncle’s out of his mind,” he says, fingers moving over the keys.

She laughs quietly. “My sword or your gun?”

“Your cousin’s boyfriend.” He looks way too happy as he hits send with flourish. “Nikki’s off the shits again. Something about running over protesters with a car. And calling Taka ‘Kyo’ again.”

She tries to put the pieces together in her head. “So he wants Mondo to come and set her straight?”

“Something like that. He’s pretty feral for a cop.” He pauses. “In a good way, I mean. More chaotic than lawful.”

“Your father screwing over your choices in life will do that.” It comes out way too bitter. She has to remind herself not to hold the wheel so tightly and not to tailgate. This is why he hates it when they drive anywhere.

They should change the subject to pretty much anything else, at least while they’re both still in the car, but her mind can’t get off if it. She doesn’t get why any of them still do this when they could just go as a smaller unit on some vacation. Family ties and everything shouldn’t matter - they  _don’t_  matter, except for her cousin and -

“I’m really glad Taka’s coming.” Peko takes a second to look from the road to her boyfriend. His eyes are still on the console but it’s not a concentrated look. “He’s already done this shit before, the whole 'coming out to your nutjob family’ thing.” He looks on the verge of frustrated tears. “It’s stupid. I should have known earlier. I should have said something -”

“Stop.” She hears the sharp intake of breath holding back the insecurities. “It is no one else’s business when you realized or how you realized. You are not obligated to answer any questions or inane comments about your gender or presentation to anyone.”

He doesn’t speak. There’s no noise from the Switch and no rustling, no nervous fidgets. She looks at him again, and he’s just staring at her, like he does sometimes when they’re alone.

It doesn't matter how long they’ve been together, it still makes her blush. “I love you,” he says.

“I love you too.” There’s a couple more minutes of quiet before she hears the sounds of Pokemon switching out, running around, being caught. It’s interrupted by her phone again, buzzing loud. “And what weapon does he require now?”

“My sister.”

Wow. “He wants you, Mondo, and Natsumi all in a room? Together? With our ultra-conservative family?”

“Yep.”

She thinks about it. “Well. Mondo’s bike  _can_  fit two people.”


	11. day 11: the movies

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the movies referenced here are _Were the World Mine_ , _Love, Simon_ , and _The Way He Looks_. If you have not read _Simon vs. the Homo Sapiens Agenda_ , please do! it is much better than the movie based on it. like, peoples' main problem with the movie is something that **does not even happen** in the book.

Getting Taka to agree to this had been a dilemma. Getting Taka to agree to most things that weren’t studying was like that, though, including things he actually needed to do. Like, for example, eating. Or sleeping. Or taking off his binder. 

What convinces him in the end is that Mondo is going. That’s…it. It had been abrupt; Chihiro said, “Mondo and I will miss you.”

He’d stopped reading, staring at the page without his eyes moving, and asked, “Mondo’s going?”

“Yes.”

“Then I’ll go.” 

So it was probably going to be awkward.

Chihiro doesn’t have any exact problems with their friendship. It’s just very  _sudden_. They can’t recall outright a lot of how that night went, only that Makoto had been walking out with Hajime and his partners and heard the shouting and the fighting and run to their aid. Makoto got the campus police (which did nothing) and Nagito had managed, somehow, to draw an even bigger crowd that lead to the cops showing up. Chihiro was taken to the hospital despite their insistence that it was unnecessary, and all they could think was  _I hope they don’t kill each other in jail_.

Not that it was real jail, just a holding cell, but they spent most of their time shouting at each other and they could just see this being the tipping point where Taka isolated himself further and left the club altogether; that he’d just refuse to do anything but class until Makoto was left with no choice but to express concern about his well being to J-Board, or something, and nightmare visions of the next three and a half years clouded Chihiro’s vision from three in the morning until when they dragged themselves out of bed at half past noon and found them in the dining hall with their arms around each other. 

 _Weird_. Celes bet $200 they’ll be dating before the end of the academic year. If the way things are going is any indication, Byakuya will have to pay up pretty soon. 

Taka’s still brought his homework with him, even sitting with his his feet tucked into a sleeping bag that looks several years old and probably isn’t even his, given how exactly it matches the one Mondo sits on next to him. Mondo’s rolling his eyes and trying to take the highlighter out of his hands or take the reading glasses off his face, and Taka ignores it all like he’s been doing it for years instead of just two weeks. 

Chihiro doesn’t really want to sit with them if they’re going to be like this for the whole marathon, but Mondo waves them over excitedly. They grab onto Celes’ wrist and Celes smirks, following them. Byakuya’s going to spend time pretending he doesn’t want Makoto’s attention while doing everything in his power to get it. Is there anyone in this club who isn’t bad at relationships? 

* * *

Celes manages to get Taka to put his notes away by telling him that the first film is an adaptation of William Shakespeare’s  _A Midsummer Night’s Dream_. Chihiro assumes she’s making it up, at first, but from what they remember - this is it, almost exactly, albeit more gay. 

For this one he sits, more rapt than Chihiro has ever seen him, even in class. They think they see him tearing up, but quietly, and they lean across Mondo to offer him tissues.

He doesn’t see their hand or the little package in his vision, only noticing when Mondo shakes his shoulder and he leans too far into his touch. 

(Celes smirks, and taps something out on her phone.)

(Chihiro wonders if it’s too late to get in on that bet.) 

The second loses Taka’s interest, but not Mondo’s. Chiaki and Toko harp on the fact that it’s based on a book, and they crowd together to discuss the differences between the two. They think that’s what loses Kiyotaka - the knowledge that they’re watching an adaptation of something he’s yet to read. 

It’s okay, but it doesn’t get Chihiro’s attention the way it gets Mondo’s, his fingers tight on the legs of his jeans, knees pulled up against his chest. It doesn’t get to any of them the way it gets to Kazuichi, wailing with his head between his knees and Gundham’s hand patting his back uncertainly. 

(Celes is typing something else out, watching them interact.)

(Chihiro wants to tell her not to. There’s something unfortunate and dark in how Souda runs from the room with his hands over his face, his roommate and Sonia following close behind.) 

And the last is…

The last is good. It’s  _really_  good. Even Mondo pays attention, despite the subtitles. The feeling of being an outsider, of being mocked for things beyond your control; the intersection of disability and homosexuality…

…the drifting friendship…

Chihiro looks at Mondo.

Mondo’s looking at Taka.

Taka’s looking at the screen, and crying, silently. 

Maybe their discomfort has been misguided. He didn’t get into trouble because Mondo was fighting; he fought back because Chihiro was being attacked. And whatever sort of bitter feelings they had, the worry of their dynamics shifting…it was better two have two friends than none.

“You’ll owe me $50,” they whisper to Celes, before sliding their phone onto Mondo’s lap. 

_hold his hand!_


	12. day 12: fairytale

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> there is one very brief reference to incest, in that he's thinking about sleeping beauty (the grimm's version of the fairytale is uh......... just as edgy as their other fairytale versions)

He hates writing assignments like this. “Re-write a fairytale” - what is the  _point_ , exactly? Didn’t that fall under some sort of plagiarism? 

“You’re thinking about it t…too hard,” Toko tells him. She’s been leaning over his shoulder, frowning at the page. “You don’t even need t-to write an outline, really.”

That’s easy for her to say. She’s tested out of every basic literature and writing class, including the one that was supposed to be mandatory for all freshmen. “I’m not good at creative writing,” he says.

He could be wrong, but he thinks she’s smirking. “That’s obvious.”

“You don’t need to be rude.” He can’t seem to keep the snap out of his voice when he’s embarrassed by things, and he practically lays across the table to keep her from looking at his papers. It doesn’t deter her; she rolls her eyes and grabs his rubric,readjusting her glasses. 

He guesses he’s getting help, whether he asks for it or not. “This could…could be anything,” she says, chewing on her thumb. “All you really need t…to do is change one aspect of a fairytale you- you already know.”

He taps his eraser against the table, agitated. This is ridiculous. He shouldn’t need help, he’s a writing tutor.

“I was thinking about changing Sleeping Beauty.” 

“Into what?” 

He makes little circles on the table with the eraser. “Giving her narcolepsy?”

Toko’s eyes look up at the ceiling, teeth still on her nail. “That’s a good start.” 

* * *

It doesn’t feel like a good start anymore. He hadn’t really taken into account how much this one small factor would change the entire plotline, and now he has to give a character agency who’s never had it before.  _At least I can take out that horrible incest subplot_ , he thinks to himself.

He doesn’t know how long he’s been working on it, but he guesses  _too long_  from the way Mondo is staring at him.  _He hasn’t been speaking to me, has he?_  

“I’m sorry,” he starts, “Were you -?”

“No!” his voice is so loud. Is he shouting? Why is he shouting? Mondo looks away too quickly, rubbing the back of his neck. He looks pink, but it could just be the lighting. “Just, yanno, we been here like an hour. Don’t ya think you should take a break and eat or somethin’?” 

…right. They’re in the dining hall. That is what he should be doing. And he can think about it while he eats. Brainstorming. Maybe that’s why he can’t put words onto paper - he hasn’t brainstormed it properly yet! So -

Fingers snap right in front of his face and he panics, smacking the hand away. 

It’s Mondo. Again. And he looks…upset. Not angry. More…sad. “ _Kyoudai_ ,” he says. “You’re doin’ it again.”

* * *

One thirty in the morning is not the best time to be writing out a short story by hand, but Makoto’s still up and he needs to get this finished. Until he gets it done, even as a rough draft, he can’t sleep. Although if you told him in high school that he’d be pulling all-nighters in college, he would have been offended. But then, there are a lot of things he’s done in college he wouldn’t have thought he’d be doing when he was in high school. And this short story he’s writing might be getting a little too personal. 

Sleeping Beauty’s now a boy. Or trying to be a become a boy. And his father won’t let him cut his hair or bind his chest. What he really wants to be is a knight who can defend himself. And the Prince that’s supposed to save Sleeping Beauty has a problem where he occasionally turns into a dragon and has no control over it. 

He might have referred to the Prince as Mondo more than once. 

He sighs, too tired for it to have the backing of his frustration behind it, and rests his head on his desk. 

“Taka? Taka!” it’s Makoto, shaking his shoulder slightly. “Dude. Go to bed.”

“But I need -” 

“This is a really good start!” Some of Makoto’s pep is drained from the research he’s spent all afternoon-evening-early morning doing. “At least, take a nap. Or rest your eyes?” Well, his vision _has_ gotten a little blurry. “I can look over this for spelling mistakes, or suggestions.”

“But don’t you -”

“I need a break.” He says it flatly, but it still comes out like he’s begging for Taka to help him out. If it’s just a manipulation so Taka will go to sleep… Well, it’s awfully sneaky, and he’s too tired to tell him no. And he passes out on his desk, anyway. 

* * *

Somewhere along the line, Kiyotaka should learn how to greet other people like a regular person, instead of starting off his sentences with things like, “How do you turn in work that you know is subpar?”

He can’t really blame Mondo for looking at him with some kind of unspecified negative emotion ( _longing, he thinks, but he doesn’t have the background information necessary to make that claim_ ) to fury. “You ain’t had a real conversation with me in four days an’ the first thing you say to me is to criticize my work ethic?” 

Four days. What was four days ago? Sunday? The day they went to international house for that party and they - 

Oh. Oh, given that context, yes. He can understand why Mondo looks upset with him. And why he seems so frustrated. And why he’s always trying to get his attention and upset that he’s not looking at him.  _I’m so terrible at this_.

“Terrible at what?” Oh, gods, did he really say that out loud? “Are - are you cryin’?” He wouldn’t normally let himself be manhandled like this but he thinks, one, that Mondo is not being rough on purpose, and two, that he maybe kind of deserves to be treated roughly. 

He cuts Mondo off from whatever he was going to say by blurting out the lesser of his two current issues, which is, “I didn’t mean it how it came out. I’m sure your usual work is exemplary. But I hear you and Leon saying that the homework you turn in for your language classes is ‘not the best’. I just want to know how you deal with that.” And he should have gone to Leon, probably, just avoided seeing Mondo altogether until he could have figured out  _You kissed him and then didn’t talk to him for three days after so of course he hates you now, you idiot_ on his own.

Although, to be honest the latter part probably would never have happened. “Sometimes, you just gotta accept you can’t be good at everythin’. And teachers don’t expect you to be, right? You’re gonna be bad at some shit, that’s why they got a job.” Well, he does have a point there. “Didn’t you ever turn in shit in high school and think, ‘This prolly wasn’t the best I could do, but I can’t think of how to make it better’?” 

He’s trying to think about it, but it comes back blank. “No.” He’s too nervous to actually look at Mondo, but there’s probably something like disbelief or irritation. “I didn’t have any friends in high school, so I didn’t do anything but study. There was never any reason for me to turn in less than my best.” 

“No offense, man, but that’s total bullshit.” Mondo squats down so he doesn’t have an excuse not to look at him anymore, no matter how terribly he feels about it. “Even if it ain’t, or you think it ain’t, college is different. You need to let yourself suck at things, so you can get better at ‘em.” 

“Like relationships?” At least he hears himself say it that time. It’s not fair to Mondo to make him feel embarrassed about it too, since it’s hardly his fault. 

And Mondo does look moderately uncomfortable with him saying it like that, scratching the back of his head and standing up and staring at his bed so he doesn’t have to look at Taka. Kiyotaka starts to breathe so he can apologize for doing whatever the heck it is he has or hasn’t been doing over the past couple of days, but Mondo starts talking first. “I just wanna know where I stand with you. If yer not interested, that’s fine, but I can’t figure out what it is ya want from me.” 

He turns back around but doesn’t quite look at Taka, arms crossed over his chest but eyes on the floor, off to the side, like he’s trying to get the best of both worlds by both having this conversation and not having it at the same time. 

“I want to be best friends,” Taka says. 

“Oh,” Mondo says, not doing a very good job of hiding his disappointment.

“And I want to be more than that,” he continues. 

He doesn’t do a very good job of hiding his feelings about that, either. 


	13. day 13: graveyard shift

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've never actually written komahina before so this was my first attempt at doing so? No idea how it worked out but sometimes you gotta suck at stuff so you can get better at it. 
> 
> in addition to 'everyone's gay' i've also apparently decided to write 'everyone's struggling w a mental illness', 'cause like, projection, i guess.

He should be thankful he even has a job. Even if it is a job that tries to pay him below minimum wage, that changes his shifts at random, that lets his coworkers smoke pot in the bathroom but takes issue with him needing more than three minutes to use the bathroom. Even if that job is 930pm-430am.

…yeah, no, he can’t really be thankful for that. He can’t even say that he has a slow shift because what twenty-four hour McDonald’s by a college campus is ever slow? 

It’s one-thirty now, god help him. He wishes he could just bash his head into counter. But they’d probably wind up suing him for destruction of property, after they made him clean up his own blood. 

 _Kind of a violent thought there, Hajime._  

He recognizes the walk pattern before he hears Nagito’s “Oh hi, babe,” and he’s somehow groaning and smiling all at the same time. 

“Please. Not the Tommy Wiseau thing.  _Not at work_.” Nagito smiles at him and leans over, kissing him on the cheek before he can push him away. Not that keeping him at bay ever has or ever would stop him, but his supervisor is watching a little too closely and he clears his throat. “I can take your order whenever you’re ready!”

“Yeah,” he mimics back, overly cheerful, “I’ll have a uh…” he blinks, like he doesn’t know the menu or something, voice trailing off. It’s entirely possible he doesn’t actually know what’s on the menu, but it’s just as likely he’s holding it until Hajime’s manager finds something better to do. “I’ll just have a soda, and whatever she -” he turns around, but Chiaki’s not behind him. 

Hm. He  _thought_  something was off. Nagito runs a hand through his hair, tangling it further. His eyes get weird whenever he does this, sorta spiraling like water running down a drain. As long as he’s not being hovered over Hajime can reach out, touch his arm. “Are you okay?” 

“Not really,” he mumbles. “Might’ve said said some real shit to a professor. Kinda surprised he didn’t call the cops, but don’t worry about me. Worry about Chiaki.” 

“Where is she?” Nagito leans around the wall separating the counter from the tables and his shoulders sag. 

He looks way too thin. Hajime punches in the number of food for him, even if they just take it out of his check. The worst they can do is fire him, and at this point he doesn’t really care. Maybe he kinda even wants to be fired, so he doesn’t have to deal with the guilt that comes with not being useful enough and -

 _Woah. Calm down_. Nagito’s fingers are cold on his forehead. He look perturbed. He’s not usually the most stable person in the relationship. “What happened?” he asks, hoping Nagito won’t answer with a question of his own. 

“Computer science professor,” he says. “She gets bored in that class and dicks around with other programs, but he can’t catch her not paying attention because she always gives the right answers. So today he tells her she’s just one step away from being artificial intelligence.” 

Oh, that. Yeah, that makes  _him_  see red a little. He can understand why it’d piss the both of them off. “Not, by any chance, the same professor who -” he shifts weight from foot to foot, not wanting to say the words out loud. He settles with, “Harassed Mikan and Chihiro, is it?”

He knows from the way Nagito’s fingers tighten in his jacket sleeves what the answer to that question is. “How did you know?” More of a flat assertion than a question. “She’s only bored in that class because they wouldn’t let her test out of it. She and Chihiro both could run circles around that fucking -” 

“Excuse me, sir, there are children in here,” his manager says.

“What children?” Hajime asks, knowing full well that it doesn’t really matter and he shouldn’t backtalk his boss. But the guy’s pointing at what is… Chihiro. Talk about imperfect timing. They look drained. 

“I’m eighteen,” Chihiro says. The manager rolls his eyes and heads off to the back. 

“I’m, uh.” Oh god, what do you say to someone you were literally just talking about? It wasn’t negative, but should he still apologize? He probably should. Yeah, he’ll just do that. “Sorry you heard that.” 

They shrug. “He’s not wrong. I’ll be surprised if Mikan even comes back to class.” 

Nagito leans with his hip against the counter, arms across his chest. “She will. She has to - she needs it for her degree.” 

“Uhm…She could probably take it at a community college and transfer the credits in,” Chihiro says, tapping their lip. “I don’t really know what you have to do in order to get that done, though.” 

“Do you know anyone that does?” Hajime asks, and then kind of regrets it. It’s a stupid question, of course they do. He shakes his head at himself, and says “Anyway, what are you guys doing here? It’s almost two A.M.”

“The professor changed the date of a group project.”

He sighs. “I’m not gonna take the hopeful guess of ‘He pushed it back a week.’”

“It’s due tomorrow,” Nagito answers.

“Well…today, technically.” Chihiro corrects. “By ten A.M. We just finished, so I’m just grabbing some food before I go see if anyone wants any help.” 

“Are you sure you don’t wanna just go back to your dorm and get some sleep?” Hajime asks. “You look beat.” 

“Uh…No. Not right now. I wouldn’t be able to sleep, anyway.” They pull a grimace he does not want to ask about. “Besides, I like to help people out! Uhm… And I’m kind of concerned about Mikan, so I wanna go see how she’s doing.” They look back to Nagito. “Uh, after you?”

“No, no, it’s fine. You go first. I’m still trying to figure out what to get Chiaki.” But he’s not, really. They come in a lot when Hajime is on shift, and they always get the same thing: Happy Meal if Nagito’s not eating, as many chicken nuggets as Teruteru can make if he is. 

Teruteru’s not on tonight, the lucky bastard, but Nagito’s still eating whether he wants to or not.

He steps up behind Chihiro and hands Hajime a wad of cash before Chihiro can pay for themself. They look taken aback, and he tries to smile. “Hey, you’re gonna be basically teaching this class. So you should get something out of it.” They look close to tears as they leave with their order, but they don’t refute it, running out and back to campus before it gets much later.

“You’re eating too, you know,” Hajime says. Nagito starts to protest and Hajime cuts him off with a sharp poke to the ribs. “You eat or no Smash and Kanye for you. No go sit and keep our girlfriend company while I fuck up these chicken nuggets.” 

“Aw, how despairing,” he says grabbing some cups. Hajime only shakes his head at him, but he’s not far enough out of reach to miss his weekly running joke entrance to Chiaki, “I hear Kanye West likes -”

She shouts “NO!” before he can finish the rest, but it’s not without laughter.


	14. day 14: coffee shop

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> there's nothing specific but this chapter does feature a character dealing w ptsd-induced anxiety so if that's likely to trigger you pls skip!

He kind of gets the feeling that he’s missing something, but he doesn’t know what. As far as feelings go, he’s pretty much used to it. He is usually out of the loop in some way or another, and though it’s annoying to feel like the only person in the room unaware of what’s going on he’s learned to just kind of deal with it until someone feels like cluing him in on it. 

He also thinks, for whatever his opinion is worth, that this might be a date he’s on.

It’s not as if he’s never been on a date before, but most of them had been awkward dates with equally awkward boys who told him, beforehand, that it was a date, or who had at least said something in that general area. Mondo Oowada, however, just seems to sort of grab him and drag him places without any kind of forewarning about where they’re going, if they’re going to be with other people, and if it’s meant to be a romantic or platonic engagement. And he can’t quite work out if that’s a trait he finds attractive, or incredibly annoying. He thinks it’s entirely possible the answer is simply both. 

So it’s three-fourteen in the evening, Tuesday, and he has a class at six, and Mondo dragged him out of the library to come to a coffee shop and hasn’t really said much to him since they got here. He keeps looking around like he’s anxious, and every time Kiyotaka’s so much as opened his mouth to start a sentence he jolts like a startled rabbit. 

Mondo stares at his hands. For a brief moment, Taka wonders if he’s going to hold them, and decides that’s probably silly. This is, most likely, not a date. Who takes someone to a cafe in the middle of the school day when they have a class in less than three hours as a date? 

Someone in the corner is being awfully loud and Mondo keeps staring at them, agitated. It sort of heightens Kiyotaka’s suspicions that they’re actually here waiting for someone, but he can’t think of who, or why Mondo wouldn’t just tell him about it in the first place. 

If it weren’t for the noise and Mondo’s palpable anxiety, it might be nice. He’s never really just sat with someone before without needing to fill all the silence up with space and he knows Mondo doesn’t care very much whether he talks or not. When he does, Mondo listens (mostly), and when he doesn’t Mondo just leans against him and sort of stares off into space. So this could be kind of nice; not saying much of anything important, sharing hot beverages, holding hands…

He starts to wonder why they’re not doing the last bit when the guy in the corner laughs overly loudly and hits the table and Mondo flinches, teeth digging into his bottom lip. He doesn’t think he’s ever seen the other student look so uncomfortable. 

He tries not to make too much noise with his chair when he moves it. One of the wonderful bonuses to always being the weird one in the room is that he has learned not to care what other people might be saying or thinking when he does something they find strange. So he’s sure people are staring at him as he pulls his chair next to Mondo’s, but that’s hardly important. What’s important is the fact that Mondo himself doesn’t seem to have noticed, hands curled into fists in his lap. 

His eyes look so far off and distant. They’re set on the table, but Kiyotaka can tell that he’s not really looking at - or seeing - anything. 

He moves his hand very slowly to Mondo’s and anticipates the jump as Mondo nearly slams his fist into the table, catching around his wrist and pulling his hand back down, curling his own around it. “You seem upset,” he says, and when Mondo  _doesn’t_  give him a sarcastic reply, he takes it as cue to go on. “Are you okay?” 

He opens his mouth, but instead of saying something his breath just collides into the air noisily. It comes out way too labored, like he’s been running, but they’ve been here half an hour now just doing nothing and there’s not nearly enough caffeine in the drink he ordered to have that kind of an effect. Kiyotaka moves his seat so he’s facing Mondo more directly, pulling Mondo’s hands into his lap. “Mondo. Please.” 

Kiyotaka watches his eyes flutter closed and fights the urge to take his pulse in case this is some kind of early-in-life heart attack. Just when it seems like Mondo’s ready to tell him what’s going on, the guy in the corner screams. 

Mondo bolts. 

Kiyotaka’s not one to waste food, but his friend-slash-date’s erratic behavior overrides his compulsion to ask for one of those flimsy to-go cups. 

Luckily, Mondo’s not gone far - just out to the side of the building, nearer to the parking lot, lower back pressed against the brick with his head in his hands. He’s trembling. If he were somebody else and believed in that kind of thing, Taka might even be inclined to say he was radiating nervous energy. But he doesn’t, and he rarely gets these things right anyway, so he won’t. 

He isn’t sure if touch would be welcome or not in this kind of scenario, so for a moment all he does is stand there and watch Mondo shake. It feels cruel to just leave him like that. He reaches one hand out to touch one of Mondo’s, not pulling back when jerks and starts dropping apologies from his mouth. 

“It’s okay,” Kiyotaka finds himself saying, wrapping his fingers around Mondo’s. “You don’t have to apologize. Just - tell me what’s wrong?” 

He still doesn’t. Mondo presses his face into Taka’s shoulder, arms wrapping around Taka’s middle and squeezing him tightly. The touch isn’t exactly unwelcome, but it is odd. Mondo’s never touched this much of him at once, always caught somewhere between familiarity and embarrassment in most of their encounters. It would be a nice change of pace if he wasn’t crying. 

But Mondo is immovable; or if he can be moved in this context, Kiyotaka’s not sure if he should. Clearly this is something that he needs even if Taka can’t see beyond the surface just yet. He pats Mondo’s back awkwardly, and when that seems to loosen his grip he tries to press onto his toes to card his fingers through his hair. 

He’s left it down today. In hindsight, that might have been an indicator of the state of his mental health. Taka, being Taka, had stupidly thought he’d done it because… well, sometimes people do things like that for dates. 

He tries not to focus on the passage of time as they stand there. Even if people stare, it’s not like they can’t deal with some low-level harassment, although most people are too frightened of the two of them to do much more than make rude comments. Kiyotaka doesn’t care regardless, but Mondo’s always struck him as being more self-conscious. 

Mondo lets Kiyotaka pull back just enough to press his lips to Mondo’s ear and ask him, as quietly as he can, “Do you need me to call Daiya?” 

Mondo pulls back the rest of the way, shakes his head. He takes another minute to breath, sound wet, squeezing the circulation from Taka’s fingers. “Jesus. I fucked up,” is the first thing he says. He uses his free arm to try and wipe his eyes off on his jacket. “Thought if I just fuckin’ left campus or some shit I’d stop thinkin’ about the goddamn nightmares.” 

So he’d brought Taka with him for moral support. “Is there anything on campus that’s triggering you?” 

“Yeah. No. I don’t fuckin’ know!” 

This is probably not the opportune time to point out that knowing what sets him off will prevent this from happening in the future or, at the very least, give Kiyotaka some idea of how to help him. He understands it probably would sound much ruder than he means it, but he’s not really sure what else to suggest to make him feel better and he’s not the best person to handle this sort of situation. “This…doesn’t seem to be making you feel better,” he says carefully. “Do you… Want to go somewhere else?”

“I don’t  _know!_ ” he shouts, and lets go of Taka’s hand entirely to cover his face with both. “Fuck. ‘m sorry. I didn’t mean ta shout at ya.” 

“It’s okay. I know this is stressful.” He reaches up and second guesses himself, not sure where to put his hands. He settles on Mondo’s forearms, just to let him know he’s still there. He thinks about the guy in the cafe, still shouting loud enough to be heard outside. “My dorm is probably quieter than it is here. If you wanted to go back, that is.” 

He considers for a minute if he might have accidentally implied something he didn’t mean, because Mondo’s giving him a strange look. But it fades, quickly, and he nods, pulling Kiyotaka back over to his motorcycle. 


	15. day 15: sleepover

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> alright we got another nsfw-ish chapter here. it's not super descriptive but. yeah. first times.

Taka's sheets are softer than his, so it's a good thing they're doing this in his room. That, and his roommate is sort of...otherwise occupied. Not that either of those things make Mondo feel less nervous. They've already been through three rounds of _Are You Sure About This?_ He's framed by Taka's knees, down to his underwear, shirt covering his chest and looking at Mondo like he's watching or doing something interesting.

But then again, he kind of always looks at Mondo like that. Which is what makes all of this so much harder.

Mondo swallows, and blurts it out. "I've never done this before." 

"Oh." Taka tilts his head. It's desperately cute. "Do you need me to show you what to do?"

He'd die of embarrassment if it were anyone else, but he knows Taka's offer is entirely genuine. He still feels the flush cover over his face and he says "No!" a little too loudly. Then he backtracks, not quite looking at Taka, and says, "Maybe." 

Taka sits up on his knees, leaning into Mondo's space. "If you don't want to-"

"I do," he interrupts, eyes going to Taka's knees, to anything except his face. "I'm just - worried I ain't gonna be any good at it." He's done his research. You don't get to college without knowing a little bit about how to find what you need, but knowing in theory and putting it to practice are two different things. 

Taka isn't responding. He probably doesn't know how to, but when Mondo looks at him he just seems amused. "No one is good at it their first time."

Oh. Fan-fucking-tastic. "Why the hell do you wanna have sex with me then?" It's not really the question he means to ask. Or maybe it is, because he can't seem to think of a better way to spit it out.

Taka has the nerve to actually laugh at him. "I don't care if you're good at it," he says, kissing Mondo's throat. "I just want to be close to you." Mondo's body is not on the same page as his mind, excited by every soft touch of Kiyotaka's skin on his. "And as they say, practice makes perfect." 

"You look at everything like it's school, don't ya?" The poor attempts at humor try to mask the anxiety he feels in his stomach. 

"I think this falls under 'extracurricular activities,' actually," he says. And when he says shit like that, how can Mondo _not_ sleep with him?

He's not Taka's first and he's known that. It's okay, obviously, that he's had other partners, and he knows Taka's patient but his anxiety hell brain will not shut up about how bad this must feel, how he must not be doing it right -

"Ah! - s-stop!" Mondo pulls his fingers away and starts apologizing. How could he not notice tears coming up on his eyes? This must be hurting and... and Taka is smiling at him? "You're doing well," he tells him, "Just - if you keep doing that, I'm going to come." 

Oh. "Are you-"

" _I'm sure._ " 

"You're crying." Taka wipes at his eyes with the back of his hands, shrugging like he hadn't even noticed, but Mondo's not going to continue without explanation.

He sighs. His face is all pink. "I don't have much control over my emotions. I cry when I get overwhelmed. It's not always a bad thing." He pauses, watching Mondo, chewing his lip like he's trying to decide on something. "I will probably cry every time we have sex. It feels good. And I love you." 

He gasps at himself and looks utterly embarrassed, like he hadn't meant to say that much. He opens his mouth to say something and Mondo doesn't want to hear him take it back, so you leans forward, kissing with his tongue between his lips until Taka lets out something of a moan. When he pulls back he says "I love you too," like a challenge, and then, "What were you going to say?"

He blinks. "Erm... that if I need you to stop, I'll say something."

So he and his boyfriend are in love, and they're going to have sex, and it probably won't be very good. Somehow the idea seems less scary the longer he thinks about it. His only real goal now is to make Taka come, and if he can't do that with his dick then he knows his fingers will work. And when he pushes in, he realizes he has to add a second goal, which is just to last longer than five minutes. Which is hard. It's hot, it's overwhelming, it feels fantastic. Taka has no problem giving him instructions on what to do to make it feel better.

Then he says, "It'll feel better for both of us if you go faster." He's been kind of wondering, but also kind of worried. About pain, about finishing too soon. About the appreciative noises Taka makes disappearing. But hsi face is bright pink and he says, "I'm really close," which is all Mondo needs to know. 

One of them, or maybe both of them, is kind of loud. 

"You should say," Taka says when they're finished.

"Did ya think I wasn't gonna?" He's almost insulted, but Taka's not really looking at him, though he's playing with his hair. He wonders if Taka's thinking about the insides of closets again. 

Mondo kisses him soundly to make him forget about it. "'Course I'll stay," he says. "We still got some studyin' to do." 

 


	16. day 16: amusement park

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sooooo i might have accidentally written this chapter going off of the au crossover. so he's talking to his stepdad, who in this case is jotaro kujo. i don't think you have to know anything about jjba to get the chapter but if you don't like it, feel free to skip!

It doesn’t matter that she lives in Florida. Every summer break, Jolyne wants to go to Disney. She uses Taka as an excuse, saying that her brother doesn’t get to go to Disney all the time, so it’s not fair to him. And he thinks there’s a little bit of honesty in there, because she drags him all over the place while their dad and stepdad, switched around, watch. He thinks he can confidently say he’s had more Princess-themed makeovers than the average eighteen year-old.

Well, nineteen. He’ll be nineteen in a couple of days. 

There’s an amusement park not far from the college he attends, and even when he’s with his family he’s still sort of somewhere else, thinking about what this might be like with his friends. He knows the amusement park does some off-season and after-hours events, and as he walks alongside his stepdad chewing on a stale soft pretzel, glitter from the eyeshadow cascading down his cheeks, watching the paint on his nails already chip off, he wonders if Hajime would consider organizing a get-together like that for the club. 

And then he get side-tracked, thinking to himself whether Mondo would like roller coasters or games more.

“You’re being quiet.” It’s kind of a funny comment, coming from Jotaro of all people. Of the adult men who live in their blended family home, the one who talks the most isn’t even there, unable to break away from his caseload, even for Jolyne. “You thinking about your boyfriend?”

Taka almost chokes. He hears the low chuckle in his stepdad’s throat and thinks to himself that it’s not very funny. He wasn’t even aware Jotaro knew. He gives himself a second to recuperate before asking, “What did father tell you?” 

“Enough.” Taka’s not going to take that as bait. If Jotaro’s hoping he’ll divulge more information, he needs to know what he has to work with. His stepdad has been known to be a little…overprotective.

Finally, he sighs. “His name is Mondo. He used to be in a biker gang.” 

Either that’s all Jotaro knows, or that’s all he finds useful. “He’s still in a biker gang,” Taka mumbles, pretending not to notice the scowl. “But he hasn’t been arrested recently.” 

“Hm.” He wonders if father told him about that night after the underground-but-not-literally party. He vacillates between hot and cold so much it’s hard to tell how much he knows. “A delinquent with a temper who’s been in jail… Well. You did find a guy like your dad after all.” 

He never knows how to react when Jotaro says things like this. It’s not like he doesn’t consider him a father figure, but he’s almost entirely sure that’s not really how the saying goes and he’s not sure it even applies when you’re talking about a kid who’s gay. It’s probably just a joke that he’s putting too much thought into; his stepdad is known for his horrible sense of humor. 

But something does occur to him. “I didn’t say anything about his temper,” Taka frowns. “Which means Josuke told you something.” 

He seems amused, or as amused as he can ever really look. “Good grief. You and your thing for bad boys.” Taka flushes, embarrassed. 

“I’m going to do my own background check on him,” Jotaro announces after a solid three minutes of silence. “I have to make sure he checks out. Your taste in men is pretty shitty.” 

“I know,” he says quietly. “But he’s different.” 

They watch for a couple minutes as Jolyne races around, grabbing autographs from guys in massive costumes like she didn’t do this every year. It’s tradition by this point, and he wonders how many of them remember her by name. Jotaro must realize he’s been to harsh, because he passes by the next several moments without saying anything in particular. 

They should really get going soon. Taka still has some things to get done before he heads back to classes on the first. Before he pushes the words from his lips saying that they should leave, Jotaro touches his shoulder softly, contemplative frown fixed in place. “Taka,” he says, the name a sentence on its own. “I wouldn’t want anything to happen to you.” 

It sounds so ominous. Like a threat, over-bearing from anyone else. He might not know the full extent of his stepdad’s life up to the point where he met his mother, and then his father, but he knows what these kinds of looks mean coming from another person who isn’t quite sure how to emote. “I know,” he says, which is how they both say  _thank you_.


	17. day 17: parade

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> very short, written from Mahiru's POV with a little Mahiru/Hiyoko! This is my first time writing a lot of SDR2 characters.

She can hear her friends talking about how nice it would be, if one day, they were in the parade, and not just watching it. She can understand the curiosity, but she thinks she’s fine like this: taking pictures, documenting the world around her. She’s never been very good at taking the spotlight for herself, or at least, she’s never exactly enjoyed it. Any time she draws too much attention to herself it’s by accident. A lot of these freshmen, though, seem to thrive on it. 

She guesses she can’t blame them for that, either. Getting out your first year in college can be pretty intimidating. It’s understandable they’d want to make a mark for themselves. In a way, it’s why she’s here. 

Hajime never directly asked Mahiru to take up mantle as the club’s historian, but to her knowledge she’s the only one who greatly prefers taking pictures to being in them. It’s always been like that for her. And when everyone’s so happy like they are now, she’s can’t even begin to fathom the idea of regret. 

She’s gotten a blanket waiver from everyone in the club except the twins to take their pictures today, giving her artistic freedom over when and how she shoots. She catches boys holding hands and girls with their noses pressed together, people in outlandish clothing looking unreal and powerful and yet somehow still so human. 

Ibuki dips Mikan and she shrieks. Mahiru fumbles for a second with her camera before catching herself, managing for the first time ever to get a picture before Mikan’s disproportionately bad luck drops her to the pavement, and watches as her friend actually laughs it off, lettering herself be scooped up by her girlfriend, not aware or caring about who might be staring. 

This is it, Mahiru thinks. This is what it means to be alive. 

She hears the gross exaggerated noise of fake camera clicks and expects to see some jerk with an eye for fetishization to be spying on her friends, but it’s not. It’s Hiyoko and one of her rare genuine smiles. 

“You never let me take pictures of you,” Hiyoko tells her. “It’s pride month. I should have a cell phone background of my girlfriend.” 

She hums. “You’re right.” She turns her own camera over in her hands and aims it at her pressed in, kissing Hiyoko’s cheek, not caring how much the final result may blur.


	18. day 18: dance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I actually wrote two fills for this prompt. The [second](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19310749) is a follow-up to my fic _eight, thirty-one_. It kind of makes me wonder if I should do a fill that's a follow-up to _six, nine (nice!)_. Hm....

It’s been a year since that party, and Ishimaru still can’t dance. He’d told Mondo then that it’s something he’d have to practice at to get better, and then they’d both had to relearn that in other contexts. Everything with Kiyotaka was a form of education. Hopefully, dancing wasn’t the only kind of studying they’d be doing tonight.

He’s pretty proud of the progress they’ve both been able to make. A year ago, they were only able to get Taka to come to events if he felt they needed someone to be the designated adult in the group. Now, he’s…

Doing whatever the hell it is he’s doing. He’s dancing, if you can call it that, with Chihiro. They make a hell of a pair; Chi can’t dance either. And it looks like Hifumi and Makoto are going over to join them. So it’s about to be one hell of a social disaster.

And Mondo couldn’t be happier about it.

They’ve all been kind of hesitant about going to school events like this. They could always go alone, but not only would half of them never go for it (his boyfriend, in particular), most of them just don’t find the idea of going stag all that appealing. No one wants to show up looking like the loser with no friends…but no one also wants to show up and get their ass kicked for being gay. Mondo has no problem throwing hands if he has to, of course, but he knows how much it upsets Taka not only to get in trouble himself, but to watch others get in trouble. But so far? Things seem to be going smoothly. People are avoiding all the dorks, so they’re in the clear.

Until Junko comes up to him and says, “It’s such a great night. Wouldn’t it, like, be a shame if someone were to ruin it?”

Mondo almost crushes the little paper cup of water in his hands. He doesn’t feel all that comfortable around Junko to begin with, and even less when she starts this shit. She’s more or less banned from the club because she always manages to exacerbate whatever anxiety disorder it is Nagito has and seems to incite new ones in people who’ve never had them before.

Like, for example, Mondo. Not that he doesn’t have his trauma, but she brings on the kind of unassociated fear his brother and friends say he should see a therapist for. And he hates it.

“Whatever yer thinkin’ a doin’, don’t,” he tells her.

She presses her fingers over her mouth like she’s going to giggle, but spares him the theatrics this time. “Who, me? Would I do that, Mondo?”

He even hates it when she says his name. “Yes.”

She puts on a pretty decent offended face that he doesn’t buy for a second. “Wow. Harsh! Doesn’t your boyfriend, like, have rules about you being nice to girls, or something?”

“Why ya think I’m tryin’ not to talk to ya?” he snaps.

He feels guilty the minute the words leave his mouth, even though he knows his anger is well-founded. Her face is neutral in response to his words, but he’s not going to wait and see what she has to say to him next. Or what she’s going to do next, since he never really knows with her.  He just knows that he can’t trust her.

He tosses out the cup, not caring that it’s still half-full, and makes his way to his crowd of friends. They’re standing in a cluster apart from the presumably-straight kids who don’t want to get too close to them. Nagito’s standing on the outskirts, swaying awkwardly while Hajime dances kind of erratically between Fuyuhiko and Kazuichi. They all look utterly ridiculous, but the only person who’s openly laughing at them is Hiyoko, and even that doesn’t seem mean-spirited for once. It takes a bit of effort to break through the crowd they’ve made to the center, where Chihiro is dancing with their feet on Taka’s.

It’s so cute. And he feels so…incredibly soft, looking at them, his best friends.

For all the affection he feels now, for his friends – and they are all his friends, this whole club – he feels suddenly overwhelmed, like the volume has been turned up. Which is probably why he was only hanging out on the sides and watching up until now.

“Mondo!” Taka’s voice is still so loud, even here where the noise of the music is deafening. Chihiro laughs as they bump into Taka’s chest, looking over their shoulder at Mondo. “You’ve come to join us!”

He smiles, lips tight. “Yeah, man. Sure.”

Chihiro and Taka immediately stop dancing, looking at him seriously. “Mondo,” Chihiro says, “Do you need…uhm, I mean – would you like to leave?”

It’s just like that. Just suddenly. It all kinda crashes on him and now he feels worse that he’s gonna take them away from what they want to do. He could go back to his room by himself, but he knows there’s no way they’ll let him do that. Why did he even come over if this was what was gonna happen? “Chihiro, didn’t you have a game you were going to show me?”

Chihiro blinks at him and oh god, why are they doing this, why are they coddling him like this? “You’re gonna have to be more specific, Taka. There’s a lot of games I’d like to show you!”

“The one for your paper,” he says, and he’s blushing, but Mondo can’t tell if it’s because he’s embarrassed not to know the name of any games or if it’s embarrassment about creating an excuse for them to leave so Mondo won’t feel like it’s his fault when it undoubtedly is. “Arguing that video games should be valued as art. You still have to convince me of your point!” He laughs, forced.

“They are,” Chihiro argues back. They’re already leaving, Taka following behind.

Mondo grabs his hand, tugging him back. Chihiro’s already gone out the door, so Taka’s flimsy excuse clearly set something off. “Babe,” he says, trying to be quiet, “You don’t have to –“

Taka pecks him on the lips to shut him up. “You are allowed to ask for things. It’s not an inconvenience. Don’t argue.” And now Taka is the one pulling him away, fingers tight around Mondo’s hand. “Besides, I was hoping we could  _study_  later, and I don’t think I can do that if I get overwhelmed here.”


	19. day 19: mutual support

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Taking yet another whack at writing SDR2 characters. I was thinking of making them poly but then decided to just kinda... Not do anything explicitly romantic for this chapter? I'm writing Souda as being genderfluid (or maybe genderfuck), but preferring he/him pronouns.

Sonia tilts her head, chin captured between her fingers, considering it for a moment before she shakes her head. Kazuichi slouches, shoulders sagging. “You just do not look  _comfortable_ ,” she says. 

“Is that it?” he asks.

“I’m not fond of the color, either. But it is up to you to decide that, as it will be your dress, not mine.” Gundham comes by with another armful of dresses, some of which Kazuichi’s sure aren’t even from the same store. Sonia begins shifting through them, cheeks puffed out. “The color on this one is nice, but I’m not sure how you’d deal with the lace…” 

“What d’you think?” he asks Gundham. 

Gundham appraises him for a moment. “It is befitting for a mortal, but it lacks the grandeur necessary for the dark lady’s entertainment.”

“I do not really care how fancy it is, just as long as he does not spend the whole evening looking as though he’d rather be naked.” Kazuichi snorts, arms over his chest in self-consciousness. “Are you sure you want a dress?” she asks again. “You do not have to wear -”

“I do,” he says. They’re both looking at him like that. “I do want to wear a dress. I’m just. I guess I just ain’t that comfortable with trying them on…in public.” It’ll be different when they’re in Sonia’s homeland, he knows that, but here’s it’s - well, it’s  _here_ , where so many of their asshole classmates shop, and they already look at him like he’s particularly stupid and laugh at him when he answers in class or pretend to be friendly so they can try and get the word on how weird his roommate is or what it’s like to be friends with a princess. 

Which he wouldn’t even know. He doesn’t know how he got to be where he is today when he was such a dick to them both to begin with, and it’s hard not to agonize over that even though they’ve told him hundreds of times to stop. 

“You are spacing out again,” Sonia tells him. She’s looking over at the register and he just knows she’s contemplating asking them if there’s somewhere more private they could do this, but.

He doesn’t want that to be his life. He takes the dress she’s been looking at and gives it a once-over. She’s right about the fabric - it feels itchy under his fingers. But he’s sure she knows plenty of good tailors who could do something about it if he likes the way he looks in it enough. 

There’s a lot of loud talking coming their way and he jolts for a second. Gundham’s arms are up in that weird defensive stance he does sometimes, but they drop easily. “It’s that trio of underclassmen,” Sonia tells him. 

“The one with the delinquent?”

“The one whose hair tempts the fates is not with them today,” Gundham says. “It’s the deceptively innocent one in his stead.” 

He’s not really sure how he feels about any of them since he hasn’t really gotten to know anybody outside of these two and Hajime, but if they’re in the club they’re probably alright. Makoto - he thinks that’s his name - waves at them and pulls his group over like a wave to the shore. He tries not to think about how intimidating his roommate looks with his thick eyebrows and strict glare. “Hey guys! Guess we’re all out getting clothes today, huh?”

“Indeed. These two will be accompanying me back home over the break, and need to pick out clothes for a party.” She swats Gundham’s arm. “ _He_  is still refusing.” She doesn’t add that he’s holding out for something with a cloak, because there’s no reason to get someone else involved in all their weirdness.

And Makoto doesn’t ask. “We’re here for interview clothes. Chihiro’s got a project that’s getting a lot of attention!” They blush under the praise that results in a lot of questions from Sonia that Gundham and that kid with the eyebrows look totally baffled on. Kazuichi understands a bit of it, but while they’re all distracted he’s just gonna hide himself in the changing room and hope he doesn’t look or feel like shit when he comes out. 

It’s getting hard not to, at this point. There’s not a thing about his build he doesn’t hate, his stupid hair or sharp teeth and the hearing aids he’s sure anyone can see at this point and - “Hey, uh, K-Kaz?” 

He almost doesn’t recognize it as his name. So few people shorten it, and he doesn’t register at first that the voice is probably Chihiro, so he stalls before he says, awkward, “Uh…yeah?” 

“Uhm…do you know how to tie a tie?” 

An odd question. “Sorta. Why?”

“C-could you help me?” 

He doesn’t think first about the dress, kinda forgets that he’s even wearing it when he opens up his door and peeks out. “Which one’re you in?” Chihiro opens up the door, shirt untucked and blazer a bit too big, tie around their neck in a literal knot. They look as nervous as he feels. He wonders if it’s the clothes. “I can try and show ya, if you want.” They nod and turn to face the mirror as he demonstrates on himself first, and then by taking their hands and walking them through it. 

He’s gonna have to wear a tie again one of these days. He doesn’t think prospective employers would take well to him showing up in a skirt, no matter what Gundham says about his spells and shit. 

The whole thing feels weirdly intimate - not romantic, but like a father teaching his son things and it just makes his stomach plummet in weird ways. He doesn’t know what it is his father thinks about him, how he’d react if he’d come out, and too often he finds himself wondering what everyone else’s home life is like. Some people are too quick to share it, proud of themselves and where they come from. He wonders if any of them are out, how their parents deal, and how  _you_  deal if they don’t. He’s never needed instruction manuals to work out cars or trucks or basic machinery, but life never handed him a manual or gifted him with the know-how outright. His dad doesn’t even know he’ll be out of the country this December. 

“Kaz-Kazuichi?” Chihiro’s looking up at him, tears dried up on their cheeks. “Are you… Are you okay?”

He wishes people didn’t ask him that. He never knows how to answer. “How do you do it?”

“Uhm… Do what?” 

He gestures his hand over their outfit. “Go back and forth like that. And in between. How do you get the confidence to do that?”

“Oh.” They press their fingers to their lips while they think about it. “I didn’t always. But since I got here… I have a lot of support.” Support, huh? “I was scared at first, but I know Taka and Makoto and Mondo wouldn’t let anything happen to me. And that even if something did happen to me, I’d still be alright.” He grunts, and nods. “You know, you have support too. Sonia, and Gundham. They wouldn’t be here with you if they didn’t.” 

He smiles. Yeah, he knows - or he guesses he does, when he lets himself believe it. 

Chihiro finishes the knot on their own this time and gasps, clapping their hands together in excitement. “I know I’m going to forget this the minute I leave, but we have to show Taka!”

He’s caught up for a moment and forgets again what he’s wearing, coming out behind Chihiro to watch their friends light up at their well-done work, Taka correcting their posture and teaching them how to give a proper handshake. He almost misses the way his friends (his friends?  _his friends_ ) light up. “I think it looks wonderful,” Sonia tells him. “But…how do  _you_  feel?”

Kazuichi looks down at himself. The color goes nice with his skin. It makes his legs look great. He’ll need to get better shoes, but as long as this thing’s in his price range - “I think this is it.” 

Sonia claps.

But he will have to do something about the lace.


	20. day 20: confession

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had the MIKA song ["Feels Like Love"](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vR1WFoZYGUo) stuck in my head when I wrote this and it probably shows.

The first time he admits to himself that he maybe feels something for Kiyotaka that isn’t socially-pressured friendship is when they’re making their way back from the police station. He’s inspecting his bruised knuckles and not really watching where he’s going, making Leon and Mondo both look back or over at him in anxiety. He’s tired, dark rings running under his eyes, and with his shirt torn and his binder off he looks a little off. And he also looks - this part is important - like he doesn’t care. 

There’s a lot of…he doesn’t know, bravado? Swagger? A lot of  _something_  in the way he carries himself that Mondo hasn’t properly given him credit for before, and he wants to comment on how brave it was to throw himself in a fight like that. He’s not exactly in a position of power himself, but before the words can put themselves in line in his head, Taka says “It’s been a while since I hit someone.”

It’s been a while. Which means that he has, in fact, hit someone before. Mondo knows Leon’s looking at him to exchange glances but he can’t bring his focus to change. Not when he’s this tired, adrenaline rush crashing. It’s been a while since the constant violence was his life, so he can’t go all night like he used to, which is probably healthier. 

It’s almost time for dining hall to open up for breakfast and there’s no point in them going to sleep on empty stomachs, so he asks Kiyotaka if he’s hungry, and throws an arm over his shoulders. Let the stares of their classmates be damned. No one fucks with Mondo Oowda or his friends. 

When Taka notices the way his shirt hangs he flusters, calls himself indecent and almost runs out, so Mondo does what any gentleman would.

He gives Kiyotaka his jacket.

* * *

He has a newfound respect for Kiyotaka, but he doesn’t expect it to develop the way it does. It’s undeniable that people are drawn to Mondo in the same way that they are repelled by Kiyotaka. He used to think he understood why, but the more time he spends with Taka the less he understands. They are, in essence, very much alike. Their family lives are…difficult, to say the least, between Taka’s grandfather and uncle and Mondo’s parents if you could even call them that. They both move in different ways to what’s expected and aim higher than what the people around them believe they’re capable of. They’re both emotional, even if the way they express it isn’t quite the same. 

The only thing he’s been able to guess is that people find Taka less physically attractive. To that, Mondo has two things to say: 1, it doesn’t matter, and 2, they’re wrong. 

It’s very superficial. Everything is. What starts as him making an effort for a guy he now understands truly, honestly cares about his well-being (and don’t bother trying to mention that he’s going about it wrong, he doesn’t care; people need a firm hand and discipline, and he will drag you up with him by force if he has to) snowballs into the closest friendship he’s ever had within a matter of  _weeks_. People raise their eyebrows at them when they interact, saying how strange it is that such a nerd and such a bad boy became friends.

When Taka hears their conjecture, he faces them with flat disdain, saying that the format of the compass doesn’t matter, as long as it points true north. He said it so earnestly that some passing upperclassman laughed, but Taka remained resolute, and the only thing Mondo could think is  _he’s still wearing my jacket_.

And that jacket means a lot to him. By all accounts he shouldn’t let just anybody wear it, and by no account is he. Kiyotaka isn’t just anyone, after all; but it still feels so intimate to watch him curl under it when he studies in the library or flips through pages of research at the dining hall table, cap of a highlighter pressing against his lips. He always looks like he’s frowning, and lately Mondo has started to wonder what it is he’d have to do to make him stop. Lately he’s been thinking about making the change by kissing the corners of his mouth until he has to quirk them up to meet him back or make him stop. 

* * *

Mondo is not now and never has been great at poetry, but he’s not good at just speaking his feelings either and he has to do something to get Kiyotaka’s attention. It’s been a couple days since Taka kissed him at that party and everything in him hurts when he tries to think about it and hurts worse when he tries to put it out of his mind. He can’t even pinpoint an exact moment in time when he noticed that his feelings got to this point. It could have been in huddling close together for warmth while they waited by the fountain for the rest of the club to arrive or staining their mouths in garish colors trying to eat what was left of the bake sale food so Chihiro wouldn’t feel bad or it could have been in the way Taka fell asleep against his shoulder as they binged movies in his room at four in the afternoon. It could have been all of them. It could have been none of them.

What Mondo knows for certain, is he never used to focus on the way his jacket looked on Kiyotaka’s body, or the way it smelled when he gave it back. But he sits at his desk now with the leather pressed into his face, thinking about how Kiyotaka smells like warm sugar and soap. 

There’s a knock on his door, and he answers it. He would have nonetheless, but he would have felt his heart in his throat if he’d known it was Kiyotaka. He might have opened it sooner. He might have opened it before the noise even came. 

Then Kiyotaka asks him, “How do you turn in work you know isn’t your best?” And he feels like he’s been slapped in the face. He knows that Kiyotaka is too literal for it to be a a purposeful attempt to agitate Mondo’s emotions.But he is still human, a human with feelings who doesn’t take the way Ishimaru ignores him well. He hasn’t done much in the way of stuttering or shouting when it comes to Taka, but regardless of his lack of noise the feeling and the sentiment are the same. 

Or maybe - maybe - they’re different, because Mondo can’t remember having felt this before. He’s felt a lot of things and none of them have been this, have been home, have been secure and somehow still unknown and shaky. He doesn’t know how he got to be so weak, when he spent so long prizing himself on his strength.

If Kiyotaka tells him no, he can try and forget about it, try and move on, but there’s a feeling building up in his stomach that he knows what this is. He only relaxes by a fraction when Kiyotaka says that he’s interested in being more, embarrassed as he is about his perceived failure in school or their relationship, kissing Mondo clumsily with eyes closed. Mondo’s not ready to say the things he’s thinking or even tap it into Taka’s waist with Morse code patterns, holding them together when they break off, noses brushing. But he can, at least, confess it to himself: He thinks he’s in love.


	21. day 21: proposal

Leon climbs over the back of the booth like Taka has asked him so many times not to do that he has given up, and asks them, “So like, how early in a relationship do you think is too early to propose marriage?” 

That’s it. No greeting, no context. So Kiyotaka doesn’t bother looking up from his work when he responds, “Anything before two years is too early, so I’m sure whatever you had in mind was thoughtless.”

It catches Byakuya, seated at the adjacent table, off guard enough that he snorts before he has time to cover is, and Leon looks a little devastated. Makoto kicks Taka’s leg under the table, but when he looks up he seems confused. Which, Makoto supposes, is fair. Kiyotaka rarely says things that aren’t meant to be, at least in some way, helpful.

“He is probably exaggerating to show that he is excited about his new relationship,” Celes says, removing one of her earbuds. 

Leon blinks, smile bending, hand going back to fidget with his hair. “Uh. Yeah, I - I kinda wasn’t kidding.” 

Celes frowns, looking down at her phone. She thinks about it. “Then I agree with Taka.”

“Two years? Really?” Leon asks. He collapses too close to Kiyotaka, chin in his hands and elbows on the table. “But that’s so  _long_.”

“Life isn’t a race, Leon,” Kiyotaka tells him. “Wouldn’t it be better to make absolutely sure you’re with the right person before you make that kind of commitment?”

Leon doesn’t even get a chance to answer before Celes is, again, voicing her opinion. “Plus, that gives you time to determine if they are only interested in your money, or if you are only interested in theirs. And, of course, time to spend it, if you are.” Leon’s not the only one giving her a horrified look for that one.

Makoto clears his throat and says, “So I take it you had a good time with Kazuichi?”

“Yeah,” Leon says. He’s starting to pick back up from there rather deflating conversation with his friends, sitting with his back to the booth, arms hitting the table. “He got all dressed up for it, like way more than I did. And it was kinda nice not to be the most anxious person there, you know?” 

“Interesting,” Taka says, eyes still one his papers. “I never thought you were the type to get anxious.”

“Hell yeah I get anxious!” Leon replies, slamming his hand down on the table. “Goin’ on a date with a cute person? Of course you get anxious! Anyone would get anxious.” 

“I imagine they would if they were strangers, but didn’t you know Kazuichi from before we started here?” 

“Oh, yeah,” Makoto says, scratching his chin. “You guys are from the same neighborhood and went to high school together, right?” 

“Well, okay,  _yeah_.” Clearly he’s not too happy with the teasing, almost pouting when he says, “But there’s still a difference there, right? Like, if anything, that’s more stressful, ‘cause what if you screw up and ruin both parts of your relationship?” 

Taka purses his lips and taps his highlighter against them. “Then I’d think that they would understand, as your friend. You already have a foundation of something that works -”

Leon rolls his eyes, and Makoto just hopes he’s not too harsh in his argument finisher since he doubts Taka’s even really aware of the fact that he’s arguing at all. His voice is loud when it interrupts Taka’s speech, positing for everyone around them to hear, “Are you seriously trying to say you don’t get nervous before you and Mondo go out on dates?” 

“We don’t go out on dates. We’re not dating.” 

No one says anything. And everyone continues to just not say anything for a good five minutes, waiting for that moment when Taka blinks at the page in front of him without comprehending and looks up at them - at Leon, and then at everyone else, confused. “You’re all being…quiet,” he says. “What does that - No. No!” He looks at Celes like she’s the most sensible person there, but she only covers her mouth with her fingers and exchanges looks with Leon. “What? What?!” The color’s slowly starting to rise in his cheeks. 

“This is too funny,” Leon says, although mercifully his voice is quiet. 

“It is not funny!” Taka insists. “Have we really?!  _Are you sure?_ ”

Makoto doesn’t want Celes or worse, Byakuya to be the one to tell him, so he rushes it out before someone else can get the jump on him. “You’ve been on like, at least three.” 

“By current dating standards, you should be having sex by now.” Because of course Byakuya would find a way to make this worse. “Or are you doing that too without realizing it?”

“NO!” Leon shushes him and pats his back, but he’s still laughing silently. Taka leans forward with his elbows on the table, running his hands through his hair. “No… Do you think Mondo knows?” 

“Yeah, man. But I guess that answers his question about whether  _you_  knew or not,” Leon says.

“Then why didn’t he just ask me! Or better yet, tell me when it was actually happening!”

“I believe you’ll recall Leon telling you about pre-date anxiety,” Celes says, shaking her head. 

“He kinda has this thing where he screams when he’s nervous,” Leon says.

“Well, yes. He told me that made it hard for him to date girls in high school.”

It’s like they’re taking turns about who gets to fill him in next, Celes and Leon (and Byakuya, he’s sure, even if he can’t really see him) looking to Makoto. “…and men. And in college.” 

Taka’s eyes are starting to water at the sudden influx of information. “Really? But he’s always quite loud. At least around…” 

“Amazing,” Byakuya says. “His face  _can_  match his eyes.” 

Kiyotaka covers his whole face with his hands and sort of wails loudly. Celes and Leon snickers and Makoto sighs softly. “Come on, guys, don’t be mean to him.” 

“Oh come on, man, he was ragging on me earlier -”

“I’m still  _right_  about that!”

“And it’s not like I’m not gonna help him out,” Leon continues as if he hadn’t been interrupted. Taka looks at him, hands pulling down his face, still flushed and tear-stained. Leon’s hand moves to drop his arm around Taka’s shoulder, leaning in. “Look. There’s a party at international house this weekend. Kaz invited me, I’m gonna invite Mondo, and he’ll invite you. Just go and like, remember this time that it’s, y’know, a  _date_.” 


	22. day 22: wedding

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't really specify who in the family is getting married. Just some obnoxious person in the family that they feel obligated to go to the wedding of... the day 24 prompt "Acceptance" takes place like later the same day.
> 
> IshiMondo and KuzuPeko.

He can’t remember the name of the relative whose wedding they’re attending, even though Taka has told him at least three times. He’s reached a point now where he’s afraid to ask. He doesn’t want his boyfriend to think he’s not listening when he talks, but every time they’ve talked about the wedding he’s been distracted by Taka’s nervous gestures, how uncomfortable he seems. So Mondo decides to ask Fuyuhiko about it, and his response is a very dejected, “It doesn’t matter. They’re not gonna talk to us anyway.”

He can’t decide if it means exactly what he said, or if it means that Fuyuhiko can’t remember either. Once they’re all in the car together, he sees that it doesn’t really matter. What matters is the way Taka’s brows are furrowed together and his teeth are shredding up his bottom lip. And Peko, from what he can tell, is doing the same. 

If he thinks that the ride up, at least, will be a reprieve from the chaos, he’s wrong. As soon as they’ve got the destination set in their phones and are on a major highway, Peko’s catching Taka’s eyes in the rearview mirror. “Have you already told him, or shall I?” Taka sighs, his fingers flex and clench back into fists, swallowing loudly and hard. He doesn’t actually say the words, but Peko understands him anyway, red eyes turning on Mondo. “I don’t believe you’ve had a chance to meet our family,” she says. 

He blinks and looks down at Kiyotaka’s tensed hand. He doesn’t usually back down from a staring contest, but everyone in the car is wound up so tight it’s hard not to reach out for any kind of comfort. His hand lays on Taka’s, squeezing his fingers. “I met Taka’s old man and on’a his other cousins.” He remembers receiving a weird text from someone claiming to be Taka’s father asking him to come back during spring break, but he’d been out with his gang and didn’t know if he could trust the number besides. 

“Right,” Peko says. “Then let me get straight to the point. Our family, the side on which Kiyotaka and I are related, are terrible.” Mondo feels his fingers being pinched and looks to Taka, tears lining up on his eyes. He’s not particularly looking at anyone, just looking like he’s trying not to vomit. “Most of our family drama is irrelevant to this occasion, but you should know that they will misgender Taka and Fuyuhiko both, refer to them by their dead names, and ask you invasive personal questions about your sex life.” 

Mondo tries not to let his anger show, because it’s not really his place to be upset about that kind of thing. More to the point, it doesn’t surprise him all that much. He got lucky with his brother and their gang, no matter how often the people around them assumed their lower class and comparable lack of education equaled bigotry. In his head, he can even kinda see Michi going off about it. From how hard Taka is holding his hand, he won’t mind breaking a few knees. 

“Alright,” he says. “So I’m gonna have ta watch what I say.” 

“It doesn’t matter what you say. They’ll find a way to pin it against you,” Fuyuhiko says. He’s glaring out the window like every car on the road has offended him personally. He sighs heavily when he rights himself, tapping something out on his phone. “They’re the kinda people who leave off a name on the guest list if they don’t like who you’re bringing. Most of that shit isn’t overt, but it still -” 

Hurts. He doesn’t have to say it. 

“They’re hoping Taka’s bringing a nice boy,” Peko says evenly, and he wonders for a second if he would have been invited regardless of their relationships just to piss them off. And normally he’d go for that, he’d try to make these people mad; but he loves Taka, needs his family to have a good impression of him, or at least to show him that he’s capable of being mature no matter the situation. This seemed like as good a time as any, leaving his hair down and brushed, straightened out to look not nearly as rough as he usually does. “They’re hoping that the right boy can…straighten him out.” 

He almost laughs at the idea of Kiyotaka being straight, forgets for a second what that really means in the context. Kiyotaka next to him still looks so discomforted that he leans over, seatbelt protesting, to kiss his cheek. “An’ I’ll tell ‘em he’s the one settin’ me straight.” Fuyuhiko snorts, but it has prompted a small smile over Taka’s face. 

Just not enough of one to overlook the situation. But he’s already got it in his mind that he’ll respond with confusion to any name that isn’t the ones he’s been given. He’s not good at passive-aggression and subtleties, but he is fantastic at playing dumb and he can use that to his advantage. “Don’t worry about it too much,” Fuyuhiko says. “Once they realize you won’t cater to them, they’ll lose interest in you for the rest of the night. They’ll talk about you and talk around you, but act like you’re not in the room.” 

It’s kind of a tough call on which of the two is worse. Mondo’s used to getting blown off by people who don’t want to see him, but his flavor of difference is much different to Taka and Fuyuhiko’s.

And if they can be brave, so can he. 


	23. day 23: anniversary

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's some brief references to sex in this chapter. It's nothing graphic, more like... A reference to the fact that they have it.

He’s been in three or four relationships before, and the problem persists: he has no idea how to pick out anniversary gifts. Granted, most of those relationship hadn’t been long-term. His first relationship, if you could call it that, had been when he was twelve. And even then, he’d been told he was taking it all a bit too seriously - a sentiment he never understood. Relationships were then and continue to be important to him. Of course he wants to give one-hundred percent. 

It’s just that so often, he isn’t sure how. 

It probably wouldn’t exactly be cheating if he asked one of their mutual friends for help. Chihiro has known him for longer, if only by a couple months. But something about the act of figuring it out for himself feels instrumental to the process. Maybe it’s because Taka knows he’s screwed up so much in the time they’ve spent together, no matter how much Mondo tries to deny it in an effort to make him feel better about himself. 

He’s been to the mall and a variety of other shops seven or eight times, trying to be inconspicuous about his goals so he wouldn’t get questioned by assistants or harassed by those people who run the kiosks, and absolutely nothing has ‘jumped out’ at him the way his father said it would. He feels like he’s at the end of his rope, just about ready to give up and go to plans F and G: ask Mondo directly what he wants, or just offering sex as a present. 

…okay, the latter is mostly a joke. He knows it would be a bad idea, especially considering that Junko is the one who suggested it to begin with. He doesn’t think asking Mondo what he wants would get him anywhere, either, since every time someone asks him that questions he flushes and grumbles that he doesn’t want people to waste money on him. And while Taka can certainly understand the feeling, it’s still frustrating. 

It doesn’t help that all of the products he sees seem to be geared toward women gifting them to men or men gifting them to women. There doesn’t even seem to be any  _platonic_  options, and as much as he’d like to gift something romantic he recoils at the idea of giving his boyfriend something that implied heterosexuality. 

He just keeps finding himself back at square one. Kiyotaka groans and closes his laptop over. How do people  _do_  this? He’s always known he wasn’t the best at maintaining relationships regardless of the affiliation, and this one is vitally important to him. It’s not as if the others hadn’t mattered, but this just…matters more. And he needs Mondo to know the depth of his affection for him through his actions. Words just never feel like enough. 

Taka chews on his bottom lip as the anxiety starts to kick in. He knows Mondo won’t read it as him loving him any less if what he gets him sucks, but he still feels like a failure as a partner for not coming up with something better, and that urge to make everything perfect makes doing anything at all difficult. He wishes he was talented in making something, but the only poetry format he ever felt comfortable with was haikus and even those attempts were subpar. 

There’s a knock on the door and Taka over-reacts, almost throwing his laptop to the floor. He knows that it’s probably Mondo, and even when he’s proved right he doesn’t feel any better. His nerves must show in his face, because Mondo tilts his head at him, frowning. Before he even asks what’s wrong, Taka blurts out, “What do you want me to get you for our anniversary?” 

Mondo sighs, and it’s kind of long, but at least he doesn’t look annoyed. “Babe. Nothin’. I don’t want you to get me shit.” 

“But -”

“No!” He puts his hands on Taka’s shoulders, turning him around and pushing him further into the room, following behind. “Look, I ain’t got a lotta money t’ spend and if you get me somethin’ and I can’t reciprocate, I’ll feel like shit.”

“I want to get you something!” He’s still fretting, but Mondo’s taken his seat in Taka’s desk chair and pulled him into his lap, squeezing his body tightly. It’s routine by now, to do this whenever he notices Taka panicking. Kiyotaka likes that he knows. At the same time, he hates how common it is.  _I really am just a burden, aren’t I?_  “To show that I care for you.”

“So get me chocolate or somethin’ then. Please, just nothin’ expensive, alright?” And then before Kiyotaka can protest or come up with a thousand other insecurities, Mondo kisses him to shut him up. It lasts longer than it should given the time of day and what he probably should be doing (ie, his homework), but he’s learned to enjoy little distractions. When Mondo pulls back he smiles, unexpecting, and asks, “Anythin’ you want me to get for you?”

Taka doesn’t mean to say it, but the words “On your knees” still come out of his mouth.


	24. day 24: acceptance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> implied abuse and transphobia

Every once in a while, he still has dreams about it. About  _all_  of it. 

At its least heinous, he remembers meeting Peko. There’s always storm clouds when he dreams about it. The color of her hair, the look on his father’s face, the way everyone talked in hushed murmurs without ever really telling him what was going on, like the sound of far-off thunder. A family secret, an uncle he has no fond memories of, and suddenly one Christmas his aunt arrives without her husband but a strange girl a year his senior looking passive and feeling unsettled. Most of his cousins are at least a decade older, so they leave the two of them to exchange uncomfortable smiles until his stepfather suggests they talk about kendo. They spend an hour and a half working on it in the basement before he has to admit to total exhaustion. Peko corrects his form and compliments what he’s managed to master. 

He tries to stop himself from asking, every time, semi-lucid and embarrassed, “If you’re family, why have I never met you before?” Half the time, he wakes up before she responds, but he can’t forget an answer like that.  _My father sold me_.

He dreams, frequently, of his family. Sometimes he has a clawing desire to message his cousin and ask her to hang out, to come over, to spend any kind of face-to-face time because the embarrassment of asking something so personal and so horrifyingly depressing is nothing in comparison to the days where he dreams about his cousins, being coerced into clothes he doesn’t like that leave him itchy for hours after he wakes up. The gnawing, nagging guilt of every time he’s unwrapped gifts to find clothes in fragile fabrics, soft colors, flowing designs that his aunts and uncles - who he believes now to be less well-meaning and misguided than he had forced himself to believe - tell him will help him feel more “like a real woman,” that will “give his body form” and “distract from his face.” He still has so much of it, all of what fit, in a trunk in his bedroom he never unlocks. 

And he doesn’t know which is worse: When he dreams about his grandfather, or when he dreams about his peers. He’s small and helpless in them both. He’s helpless even when he isn’t small. He only ever gains control enough to speak, never to divert the situation, pull it to dreams that are more pleasant, even on the nights he falls asleep with one leg between Mondo’s, or passed out on a study room couch with his head on Makoto’s shoulder. He always wakes feeling pulled, feeling tugged, feeling  _touched_ , molded into something he isn’t. He never sees eyes or full faces, but he feels locker doors and he sees pointed grins and he hears words he can’t or won’t repeat and he wakes up with his heart racing, already throwing himself into something else. 

It doesn’t even stop when he’s at home. When things are going well. He still wakes up and tenses, almost kicking Mondo in the shins and lying that everything is fine and throwing up in the sink. 

“I told you, you don’t have to come.” He doesn’t know when his father gets in the doorway of the bathroom or even that he left the door open. Force of habit, he guesses. The doors swing shut on their own at school. 

Kiyotaka shakes his head, wiping his mouth on the back of his hands. He’s brushed his teeth, but he can still taste the bile on the back of his throat. It burns the same way every time, like every time he’s had alcohol tipped back against his lips and pouring down his throat without consent. It all tastes the way his grandfather smells, like the inside of every closet he’s ever been in. He tries not to sound so bitter when he starts to say “I have to make them see -”

But his father cuts him off, gentle but firm. “You don’t owe them anything.” 

“But maybe I can -”

“You can’t.” Taka’s fingers try to dig in at marble that won’t move, just like him, just like his family, just like the entire situation. “You haven’t let them change you, and Kiyotaka, I am so proud of you for that. But you can’t change them either, and you need to accept that.” He tries to turn around, to snap, to make some kind of point, but he doesn’t see anything in his father’s eyes but sadness. “It’s always been hard for you to move on, but part of growing is acceptance. Accepting that you can’t change everything, no matter how hard you try.” 

Taka wants to say that he knows, or argue that his father is wrong, or make some kind of movement in any direction. For a second he wants to say that it doesn’t even matter what direction he moves in, but next to his father Mondo is standing in the doorway with a glass of water and he remembers that the direction does matter. It matters a lot. 

He doesn’t think Mondo will leave if he doesn’t accept the way that things are, if he stays stagnant and worries and obsesses and frets over people he has been told and he has realized and he has known don’t respect or love him. People who never have. People who never will. 

…but it will be nicer if he moves on from that. There are parts of his schedule he can rearrange to accommodate extended family, chosen family, people who have accepted him without compromises or edits. People who have only ever seen his rough draft, and thought it was enough. 


	25. day 25: midnight snacks

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is more E than M... as in, NSFW, and more graphic than the last two NSFW-ish chapters. 
> 
> God help me I can't fucking write smut.

It starts with Mondo telling him that he needs to take a break because it's late and clearly he's getting frustrated with himself and the material. And Kiyotaka can admit that he's right. It's just that at this point, he's not sure that he _can_ relax. His mind has just fixated on getting this part of his studying done, even though at twelve-thirty he's already past his self-imposed deadline. So Mondo says, "Then let me distract you," and tells him to pull his desk chair out a bit. He's curious about what Mondo's doing, but his eyes don't leave the print-out he's holding. Not even when he feels his boxers being pulled off. 

Not even when Mondo's pushing his thighs apart. 

Not even when he feels a tongue pressing between his folds, although his hands do start to tremble. Mondo's tongue feels so different from what he's used to, but not at all in a bad way. His throat constricts and he makes some kind of needy whine, sliding down in his chair. He's erect now, and Mondo grinds his tongue against Taka's clit.

One of his hands drops from his paper to Mondo's hair, tied back. Mondo is kissing him and he's totally forgotten about even the subject he's meant to be studying, attention diverted to ever press of tongue in his body. 

Under the desk, Mondo is touching himself. Taka chances a look down to where his boyfriend's lips are pressed against him and catches his breath in his chest at the sight of it. Mondo presses his tongue flat against Taka's body and drags up, lavender eyes flicking up to meet Taka's. Taka's hips roll into Mondo's mouth. 

Mondo pulls away and Taka groans, almost annoyed with the teasing, but he knows what comes next. Mondo stands and pulls Taka up with him, turning him so his ass is pressed against the edge of the desk, pulling a condom and small bottle from his pocket. Taka kisses his neck, his shoulder, his collar as he puts them on and pushes Taka into a lean against the desk, legs as far apart as he can manage. His lips are pressed against Taka's hairline as he pushes in. 

He's so sensitive, wet as he is, already making little noises as Mondo moves his body, one hand on the desk and the other on Taka's thigh, holding it up close to his body. Taka's fingers are tight against Mondo's back as his movements speed up, rocking the desk against the wall. 

He gasps and starts humming to try and keep his mouth closed and it fails, panting and whispering _yes_ and trying to keep his hips still instead of bucking up into - "Ah! M-Mondo - I'm -"

Mondo pushes his hips down and Taka shouts, pace intense and thrusts harsh. He doesn't think he's ever been quite this loud before but he can't find it in himself to be embarrassed when _yes yes fuck fuck fuck_ -

Mondo calls for him when he comes and works them both through their release. His desk is kind of gross now... but he doesn't really feel like he cares. He certainly is more relaxed now, thighs twitching in aftershock. He has to pull off the papers stuck to his ass and hopes they didn't touch anything he has to turn in, but he can worry about it later. All he cares about right now is dragging Mondo into bed with him, and falling asleep. 


End file.
